


Frozen Dreams

by paper (Aimz), ximeria



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, First Kiss, Fish out of Water, Future Fic, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 02:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 33,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aimz/pseuds/paper, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ximeria/pseuds/ximeria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik wakes up in a future where everyone he knew is long since dead and his crusade has been rendered obsolete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the sake of artistic liberties (of which I've taken many XD), I've borrowed a little from one timeline, a lot from another, a wee bit from a third and a boat load from a fourth etc. So this is not a specific Marvel Universe, more like... an amalgam of several fused together with a little of my insanity.
> 
> **Thanks to:** Afrocurl and Smitty for their beta work and encouragement
> 
> **A special thanks to:** Paperstains, who threw herself into this story with enough energy to power a small city. She created visual pieces of the story that I had never dreamed it could have.
> 
> You, my dear, have been a joy to work with and if I could have wished for anything to have been better, it would be less hours of difference between our locations *grins*
> 
> Please, go to [her art post](http://archiveofourown.org/works/644551) and tell her how gorgeous her artwork is.
> 
> This story was done for the 2nd round of [X-Men Big Bang 2012/2013](http://xmenbigbang.livejournal.com/)

**Prologue:**  
Erik felt as though icy claws were shredding his body as well as his mind, tearing them into paper thin pieces. The nausea and dizziness from the drugs forced into him by the the faceless doctors were making it even worse. They made him queasy and even if the machines around him did have enough metal in them for him to feel it, manipulating it was like trying to catch water with bare hands. There, but impossible to hold onto.

He would have liked to say that he met his end with a certain decorum, a respectable amount of self control, but Erik knew he would be fooling himself. He felt the terror in the pit of his stomach, growing with the slowly disappearing feeling in his limbs.

The straps holding him down became unnecessary as the cold leached the heat from his body, preventing it from responding to his demands. The urge to throw up grew and just when he thought it couldn't possibly get any worse, the respirator tube they had forced down his throat twitched and if he had been able to, he would have screamed as his lungs were filled with a thick, slick liquid. His body would have convulsed had it been able, but there was barely a muscle twitch as it had already succumbed to the cold.

His awareness narrowed to a pinprick of light. Erik's last thoughts circled to Mystique and their group. He could only hope that she would be the leader, his heir, or learn fast. She grew with challenges, he had to believe she'd rise to this one as well.

And Charles... If he'd tried harder, could he have convinced him to see things his way? Could Erik have had him by his side with patience? It was a moot question but it sent a pang of regret through Erik that he'd never know, would never speak with Charles, let alone see him one last time.

When the last light of consciousness was snuffed out, Erik welcomed the nothingness that drowned his thoughts.

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

  


**_...system warning... Power levels at 4%. Possible code 1004: Prisoner escape._**

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

Erik's awareness didn't return slowly and quietly. It came back fast and hard, all guns blazing, making him sit up, heart pounding, head spinning, his skin slicked with sweat.

Blinking rapidly to clear his aching eyes, Erik looked around the room. The light was soft but it still made his eyes sting, his eyesight somewhat blurry. His mind incapable of understanding what it was seeing, though. Sleek ...machines, readouts on free floating screens that made no sense to him.

There was a window, but it was dark outside, no streetlights, so either he was outside civilization or - he squinted - possibly high up, because he could see stars out there, but no silhouettes of anything else. He scratched idly at his arm and stopped as his fingers encountered the tube of an IV drip.

Staring at it for a moment, his eyes strayed to the numbers on his arm. The old one, from his childhood, never quite faded... and the newer one. The old was crude handwriting while the 0553-039 on his wrist was clearly machine-made. Erik slipped the tips of his fingers over the ink before reaching the metal needle of the drip to yank it out, wincing at the sting. Still drugs then, he thought to himself. No change there. He needed to get out, away, to escape this strange prison. He could barely recall where he'd been before waking. His clouded memory dredged up the impression of deadly cold, before his attention was drawn to the room's only door.

He hadn't given it any thought, but he must have been under surveillance, as the door opened a moment later and Erik was staring at a man he'd never expected to ever see again. He struggled to get out of bed and Charles reached for him, to stay him, calm him.

This was the moment Erik realized that something was wrong. Well, several somethings. The color of Charles' eyes was off, the hair was fluffier somehow, darker, but most of all, and because Erik sincerely berated himself for having played a part in Charles losing the use of his legs...

Charles was standing in front of Erik's bed. Unaided, on his own feet, under his own power.

Erik reached out with his awareness of metal, searching for something _anything_ that might aid him. To his horror, what came naturally and easily to him on a normal day, felt sluggish and unresponsive at this moment. Who was this imposter, this not-Charles? Panic tasted bitter at the back of Erik's tongue. Even an imposter could be a telepath. Maybe it was this influence making him see Charles?

Where was his helmet? He needed something, _anything_ that could protect him. He pushed harder, feeling dizzy and frustrated as he realized he was lacking the strength to use his abilities. Feeling powerless, he growled and reached to physically pummel whatever apparition his enemies had brought out to break him. Unfortunately his body failed him as spectacularly as his mutant powers; the floor rushing up to meet him was the last thing he was aware of, right after he met the imposter's sad and worried gaze as the man moved to catch him.

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

The next time Erik came to, it happened slowly. His eyes were gritty and his mouth dry, feeling as if it was full of cotton. He took a moment to find his bearings, the memory of what had happened when he'd first woken hitting him hard. He drew in a deep, shaky breath, body tensing till it was shaking. Still, he'd learned his lesson and managed to keep from trying to bolt right off the bed, fighting to keep his breathing as even as possible. The sounds of the medical equipment filled the room and the rustle of someone else's clothes told him that he wasn't alone.

"We thought it best to let you wake up in the presence of a doctor this time," a female voice said drily. "None of us expected you to react so badly to Charles. Though, I guess, in hindsight, we probably should have."

Erik turned his head so fast it made him dizzy. He opened his mouth to argue that it hadn't been Charles, that he wanted answers, damn it. His words died in his mouth as he caught sight of his so-called "doctor". He found a tall, feline woman standing next to the bed, a long white lab coat over her beautiful tabby fur. Erik couldn't answer, just stared at her. She was obviously a mutant, and absolutely gorgeous.

"For what it's worth," she continued with a raised eyebrow, "he's very sorry he startled you." She grinned, showing her sharp teeth. "He's been looking forward to you waking up and he can be a bit over-enthusiastic at times."

"Who is he?" Erik asked, before he could stop himself. He didn't really want that answer, because it wouldn't be Charles. "It wasn't Charles," Erik added, his tension rising, his body thrumming with it, the metal of the room rattling threateningly and the monitors flickering on and off.

Completely unimpressed by this display, the woman slapped Erik and pushed him back on the bed. The shock jolted Erik back in control of his powers, the rattling of the metal ceasing.

Erik touched his stinging cheek, noticing that the IV had been reattached to his arm. "Not very doctoral behavior," he growled.

"Sometimes the simplest solution is the best," she replied. "Now rest, you can ask your questions later."

Erik wanted to argue. "I don't even know who you are," he muttered, wondering where Mystique and his Brotherhood of mutants were. They should know where he was, should find him, free him.

She shot Erik another toothy grin. "My name is Serena, but you may call me Dr. McCoy."

Erik stared at her, so confused that he didn't notice the small device she held against his arm. It was all plastic and hissed as she activated it and Erik was asleep again within seconds, consciousness swirling away from him fast.

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

The unsettling feeling of waking up in a new, unknown place didn't abate, but this time, Erik found himself alone, no one waiting for him - and one look outside told him that the sky was dark again - or maybe still, he couldn't be sure. Outside, stars glittered and thin clouds drifted past the pale orb of the moon..

A moment later the door whooshed open, allowing Dr. ...McCoy inside. And Erik's mind was still reeling from that piece of information, unsure what to make of it. He had encountered Hank many times after his transformation and the feline traces were definitely present in this female. If she was even related at all?

She put a tray holding a carafe and a cup by his bedside. She poured water into the glass. "Drink slowly," she told him, helping his shaking hands to hold onto it. Her hands were soft and warm and _strong_ around his, as she made sure he had a grip on the cup (plastic, Erik noticed), before she let go of it.

"Will it put me to sleep again?" he asked harshly. He was too weak to fight her off, and she'd already proved willing to use a sedative on him once.

McCoy grinned. "If I want you to sleep again, I'll use the hypo," she said. "I'm a doctor, not an assassin."

Erik stared at her for a moment, realizing that she was right. If she wanted to knock him out, she was more than strong enough to hold him still while administering any drugs she might see fit. When she gently pushed his hands with the cup toward his mouth, he realized that he was indeed thirsty. Not to mention that denying himself something as necessary for his strength as water would be stupid.

"Easy," she said, steadying his hands again as they shook beyond his control.

The water felt amazing going down his parched throat, although a coughing fit put a stop to it when he tilted the glass a little too eagerly, desperately trying to get as much liquid down before it was taken from him again.

McCoy shook her head and took the glass away, ignoring Erik's growled curses.

Forcing himself to calm, Erik knew he needed information. And the sooner the better. "Where am I?" he finally managed to get out. He wanted to know more, but right at that moment, this was the most important thing to him.

"Where and _when_ is probably closer to what you want to know, if we're correct," McCoy told him evenly, most generously allowing him a few more sips of water.

Erik stared at her, but she merely checked his vitals before she continued. "If you are indeed Erik Lehnsherr," she continued.

Erik hesitated for a moment, then decided he might as well own up to it. He was fairly sure that her phrase had merely been a statement, that she already knew. "I am," Erik said with a sigh. What the hell was this masquerade good for anyway?

"And formerly known as Magneto?" she said, ignoring his obvious annoyance.

Erik paused for a moment, then nodded. "Nothing formerly about it," he corrected.

She shot him a calculating look, then shook her head. "What year is the last you remember?"

Erik frowned. Year? "What do you mean?" he asked. When she didn't immediately reply, Erik shrugged and said, "1973. At least when I was taken. I lost track once they... locked me up." He ruthlessly quashed down the mental flashes of needles and beatings, of silent oppressors as well as guards telling him he was worthless, a genetic freak.

McCoy breathed in deeply. "This is the year 2153," she finally told him.

Erik stared at her, simply not comprehending what the numbers were.

Could he trust her? Was she who she claimed to be? Years in the future? Erik's mind spun with the possibilities; could she be a descendant of Beast's? It would explain her looks, her name. If they were nearly two centuries in the future, everyone else... everyone he'd known, his Brotherhood, Char... Erik swallowed hard. The man who had greeted him when he'd first woken...

Erik closed his eyes, his pulse hammering, heartbeat thundering in his ears.

"I know it's hard to take in, but you were found in an abandoned military facility. In the sublevels that were so deep in the ground that no one knew about them after the topside facility was destroyed a century ago." She leaned against the side of his bed. "You were in a cryo-sleep containment unit - one of several units actually - several of them containing other mutants or mutated subjects."

Erik couldn't find the right words, just shook his head. Her words had no meaning, made no sense above the rushing sound in his head.

"From what we can tell, your genetic code has been changed some. Unintentionally, we think," she said, tapping the board she was reading from. "You were born with all the traits of an omega level mutant, though never originally tested. I think you probably were one even before the changes that were done to you in order to prepare you for cryo-stasis."

"Omega level?" Erik asked, not proud that his voice broke. What had they done to him? He grasped at this tidbit of information, focusing on it to regain at least a little of his self-control.

McCoy eyed him for a moment, then nodded. "During the 80s, Professor Xavier coined the term, but the omegas existed before that - he was one himself. The omega is more resilient, longer-lived and more powerful than your average ordinary mutant."

Erik found himself at a loss. No words seemed fitting, nothing he could say would be enough. Swallowing hard, he managed the simplest question, although it cost him so much to ask. Because did he truly want to know? "What did they do to me?" he finally asked, feeling agitation rise again. Something rattled and McCoy cleared her throat. Erik took a deep breath and pushed down the urge to rip everything apart. For now he would listen, learn and he would see through their lies. Eventually. Because if he bought into this story, he would be accepting that humans had taken him and tainted what he was, what he believed in. And he could do little more than rage at the sky, scream his anger and pain. If they were indeed centuries in the future, he had no one to take his revenge against, did he?

"Your genetic makeup had apparently been changed at some point before the cryo-procedure was initiated." McCoy looked at him, eyes softening a little. "And this is possibly what saved you in the end. You fought to survive when the generators began failing and the cryo-system eventually shut down."

"Cryo-procedure?" Erik felt lost. It was a horrible feeling for a man who was always in control of himself.

"They stuck you in a high tech freezer, my dear," McCoy said, shaking her head. "Mind you, back then it was highly experimental, but somehow, you survived. The others might have as well if the system hadn't failed. Then again, the failure played a large part in finding you in the first place."

Erik wanted to ask how they had, where they had, where, where...

McCoy eyed the readouts on the machine next to Erik and gave him a warning look. "Try to remain calm," she admonished. "You're still weak from the initial freezing process and the thawing we had to put you through. Charles can tell you how they found you, if you wish."

This brought back to Erik that he had indeed seen... "That wasn't Charles," Erik disagreed hotly. This at least, he knew. If this was all a hoax, this was the one thing he could pin his conviction on.

"Not the Charles you knew, no," she said with a shake of her head, "but his great-great-great grandson."

Erik opened his mouth but nothing came out. Charles'... Charles' great... His mind ran in circles. If this was real, and the explanation was...

McCoy put her hand on his shoulder and gently urged him to lie back down. "Get some more rest," she told him, her voice calm and professional, but with a timbre of warmth and understanding to it as well. "If you feel like it when you wake up, we can ask Charles to come by. The only reason he's not here now is that he was upset that you were so... unsettled by seeing him."

Erik frowned. He recalled little beyond the shock of seeing the spitting image of Charles when he'd woken up.

"He's an empath," McCoy explained, obviously understanding his confusion. "He's not the strongest of the Xavier line, but he's always had a hard time keeping other people's emotions out - and he's easily affected by them."

"My helmet..." Erik said. He didn't mean to give away what he wanted the most, but his mind still wasn't reacting as fast as he'd have liked. And protection had been at the forefront for a decade.

McCoy shot him a withering look. "First of all, he's nowhere near strong enough to get anything but emotions from you - and the helmet is in a museum, badly damaged. No, you can't have it."

Erik glared at her, wanting to argue. Who was she to deny him protection? It sounded as if she considered it a ridiculous thought. But she wasn't the one who'd lived with the threat of mindreaders riffling through her innermost concerns.

First there'd been Charles, and Erik's nagging paranoia that he would alter his mind if he couldn't convince Erik - even though, as he'd realized later, it would have gone against Charles' beliefs. Then the newly formed Brotherhood had freed Frost and while she was nowhere near as powerful as Charles, she was far more dangerous with a lot fewer ethical hang-ups.

Erik wanted to explain this, wanted McCoy to _see_. As he opened his mouth to futilely explain his very valid fears, a yawn stole his thunder most unexpectedly.

McCoy shook her head with a sad smile, gesturing for him to lie back down. "You'll need your strength to catch up with the changes in the world. I don't think you like not having all the information possible," she said shrewdly. "At least if I judge you by the legends."

Erik felt sleep overtaking him again, but he forced himself to pay attention for a moment. "Legends?"

McCoy grinned, her predatory fangs showing, gleaming in the artificial light. "You are a celebrity, or rather, a legend. You think your reappearance isn't going to cause some ripples when the world finds out about it?"

Erik stared at her as she dimmed the lights and bid him a good night. He wanted to turn it all over and over in his mind but his thoughts were growing as sluggish as his body. Reaching out, he felt the strain of touching the metal of the room, but it still made him feel a little better as sleep claimed him again, uneasy dreams of past acquaintances and unforgiving ghosts rising up to haunt him.

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

__  
July 3rd, 2153. Personal entry. CFN-X.

 _I got stupid. I should have expected him to react badly to me being there when he woke up. To see me as the first person after he's been frozen for so long. The fact that I look like the Professor, that I've always been_ told _that this is the case... I may have hurt him with my stupidity._

 _I just... I wanted so much to see him when he woke up. All the things we've been told in the family about this man, all the things I've read in the Professor's journals. I know the image that the media has portrayed over the years is a far cry from the truth, but he's been the legend we've all, that is_ I _have always looked up to. The one who fought for our people._

_I want to blame my stupidity on that strange psionic echo from Cerebro that still haunts me in my sleep, but I suspect in this case, at least, I have only myself to blame. The echo is still there, fainter every day. I know for certain that it wasn't there before I was asked to put on the Cerebro headpiece for that blasted photoshoot at the museum. To think, if I hadn't, Magneto would have died like the others, and we'd never have... I'd never have known._

_Even laid out on a bed, so weak, he was imposing. Few knew what he looked like, underneath that helmet of his, not even all the …fictional books of my youth, waxing poetic and guessing according to the author's personal preference. None of them ever prepared me for the look in his eyes, the anger rolling off him in waves, the urge to fight... The sheer joy for a second or two, when he saw me and thought I was the Professor... The pain and fury that followed upon realizing I wasn't him._

_I have to be more careful what I say and share with him. I have to consider everything I tell him carefully, anything I show him, until I'm sure it won't trigger a bad reaction. Of course, Serena and I only have the Professor's journals to work from, and even those, well, let's just say that I'm not sure the Professor was entirely truthful all the time - especially when it came to the topic of Magneto._

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

  


**_...Recharging level reached: 50%. Commence repairs of crucial systems..._**

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

Erik stood by the window, still a little unsteady on his feet, but otherwise feeling stronger.

He stared outside. From up high, he could almost fool himself into thinking it had all been a dream. At least for a little while.

Of course there was the fact that he was higher up than he remembered ever having seen a building reach. He wanted nothing more than to prove some cover-up, to prove that McCoy was lying, but the buildings below were like nothing he'd ever seen before. Sleek metal and glass, yes, but as his power slowly returned he could feel something else that covered a huge area, all around him. Something enticing just out of his reach.

Of course there were recognizable objects as well. Roads with cars on them, miniscule dots moving below him; splashes of green areas, parks probably.

He still struggled with what McCoy had told him. Hell, he still struggled with referring to her as Dr. McCoy, because McCoy was McCoy and was part of his past, part of a time and place he guarded fiercely in his memories. Sometimes it made him feel like an old sentimental fool. A feeling he'd had before he'd been taken and frozen as well.

2153\. Erik stared unseeingly outside. Well, at least the world still seemed to be standing.

Even with the view outside, he couldn't help but wonder if it was all an elaborate hoax. A play at driving him into madness.

It seemed like a lot of trouble to go through for just that, though. Unless they were simply waiting to gain from him whatever it was they were after. Information, maybe. It would've been possible for a telepath to make him believe that all of this was real. Erik was sure of it.

Of course if it wasn't a setup, Erik would have to accept what he'd been told so far.

Behind him, the machines hummed quietly. According to McCoy they were monitoring his vital signs even though he wasn't hooked up to them directly - all through the narrow, clear plastic bracelet around his wrist that he'd grudgingly agreed to when McCoy had explained what it was for.

Science fiction, the lot of it. Another point towards the truth. All this looked so real and futuristic. Just what you'd expect from the technological evolution.

McCoy had shared at least some information with him. Including that he'd been brought in a month earlier and slowly thawed to avoid damaging nerve tissue, skin, heart... and he'd only just woken up two days ago and since then he'd spent more time sleeping than awake. When he'd commented on the ridiculousness of her story, she had grinned mirthlessly at him, her sharp fangs showing. And then she'd told him that he may have been in cryo-stasis for a long time, but it didn't mean the body didn't need a chance to recuperate. Especially with the strain it had been under with the crude, malfunctioning technology.

He'd looked into the bathroom mirror that very morning and realized that it wasn't only the world that had changed. His face still looked like he remembered it, if with a few more lines. His hair, however, had no trace of color left. It wasn't even blonde, but... completely white. He'd looked at his own tired eyes, his legs shaking as they'd held him upright.

McCoy had said the hair was either another side effect of the cryo-procedure or whatever they had done to him prior to the process. She'd made a face and muttered about barbaric technology, something she tended to do a lot when the topic came up.

Erik had wisely refrained from making any further inquiries. Though he had wondered if she considered him a relic as well. A lost traveler in time without the possibility of ever returning home.

Erik's thoughts returned to the fact that he was stranded somewhere far from home and no one... no one was around anymore who knew him, his comrades in arms, even his enemies on the battlefields.

All gone.

All the people he'd come to know. His Brotherhood. Mystique who had stood by his side, no matter how bleak things had sometimes looked.

Charles. The man he'd never seen eye to eye with, but for whom he would always have a deep seated respect and love anyway.

"I thought we had the time in the world to mend our bridges," Erik admitted out loud. Of course there was no one to answer, proving his point exactly.

Taking a deep breath, Erik wiped furiously at the moisture under his eyes, blinking to clear his sight. He found himself rehashing an old lesson that Charles had taught him during their first recruitment trip.

 _'Take what you don't want me to see, and put it in a metal box'_ , Charles had said, then laughed and continued, _'I thought you might like that image. It's familiar to you and easy to create - and thus to maintain.'_

Of course he was pretty sure that Charles had never meant for him to use it as a way to avoid thinking about specific things. Like Charles, and what had happened on that damned beach, what they had had and what had never been addressed.

All the things that would never be addressed now.

Erik had no recollection of how long he stood there, carefully taking each little thing and meticulously folding it into a new metal box. All the things from the past, all the things he could do nothing to change now, short of finding a time machine and going back.

Hey, there was a thought. Maybe he should ask if a time machine had been invented. Erik sighed. Barring that, he would have to center himself, find the core of calm that would allow him to stay in control of himself and the situation. He wanted to be able to handle meeting Charles' descendant. And that thought alone still sent his mind reeling.

A knock at the door tore him from his contemplations. Staring at it for moment, Erik steeled himself. "Come in," he finally called, his voice more calm than he'd expected.

McCoy stepped inside, gesturing to someone behind her before shutting the door. "You said this morning that you would like to speak with Charles," she said bluntly. "I don't know if it's wise judging from what happened the last time. However, I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, given you weren't in a place you knew and your memories were scrambled."

Erik took this to mean she was expecting him to exercise some self-control, to understand this wasn't the time period he'd known. That this Xavier was not his... or maybe she simply meant: 'Treat him right or I'll rip your throat out.'

She shot him one last look and let Xavier in before leaving the room herself.

Staring, Erik realized that, while he'd thought he was ready to meet this mirror image of Charles, seeing him again in the flesh felt like a punch to the gut. A moment later, and this time faster than before, the differences registered with Erik, allowing him to catch himself before reacting without thinking.

And this strange double of Charles' stood still, right inside the room. This... Charles patiently waited for him to look his fill, for which Erik was grateful. Nothing but patience radiating from him in the ease with which he held himself, in the slope of his mouth, the tilt of his head.

Apart from the first obvious tell, that Xavier wasn't wheelchair bound, the hair drew Erik's eyes next. He had to wonder for a moment if future fashion was a bird's nest, because it sort of looked like Xavier Jr. was sporting exactly this look. And Erik wondered if he was seeing right, because it looked almost like there was down among the hairs, which were also darker than Charles' had been.

Then there were the eyebrows - almost like Charles' but not quite, arched differently, sharper. The eyes... were so much like his Charles' yet not. The stunning shade of blue was the same, but the eyes seemed larger than the ones he remembered. Of course it only served to make this man look more gullible than Charles had, made him look a lot younger too.

Erik tried to ignore how the nose sloped in a familiar way, and tore his sight from the lips before he could linger there for too long. The cupid's bow was the same, the slight curve upward at the corners and damnably red like they had been licked repeatedly, a nervous habit perhaps or simply a natural color with the blood flowing close to the skin and...

One of his Charles' attributes he'd always been careful to not stare at for too long. Staring led to lingering thoughts of touching them, with his fingertips, with his own lips... Thoughts that, back then, he had avoided sharing with Charles. That he'd preferred to not have Charles stumble over by chance.

A quick look down and he could tell that Xavier Jr. was around the same height and built, which meant he was a few inches shorter than Erik. Looking up again, Erik found him looking back, equally curious, a slight flush to his cheeks, setting off freckles that Erik didn't remember being as prominent on his Charles' face.

Even with the differences, it... tore at his heart to see Charles, yet not. To know that this looked like Charles but had none of his memories. None of their shared memories. Erik almost missed the sad look on Xavier Jr.'s face. He wondered where it had come from, but shut down that thought. He didn't care, all he wanted was answers.

"Mr. Xavier, I take it," Erik said, not quite managing to keep the question out.

"In a manner of speaking," Xavier Jr. replied evenly, staying where he was, making no sudden moves. All in all acting as if Erik was a skittish animal.

It should have rankled, Erik thought, but deep down he ...appreciated the care and the worry, the willingness to wait in silence as Erik catalogued the differences.

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither speaking. Then Xavier huffed out a breath, looking mildly annoyed with himself. "My name is Charles Francis Neramani-Xavier, I'm here to answer whatever questions you might have," he offered.

Erik nodded slowly. There was so much he wanted to ask, so many things from big to small, from 'was I right?' to 'how much has the world changed?' "What happened?" was what made it out. Vague, he knew, but it echoed his frustration.

"Long story short, I fooled around with an ancient version of Cerebro that shouldn't even have been working and it led me to you and several other mutants in an old abandoned military facility," he said, all rushed out in one breath.

Erik drew in a deep breath, fighting off the urge to take Xavier by the shoulder to shake him. "No, what's happened since I ...disappeared?" He used to be so damned no nonsense, focused, yet he didn't quite know how to phrase what he needed to know... Apart from 'Tell me _everything._ '

Xavier raised an eyebrow. "The CliffsNotes or the whole Mount Everest of historical information it would take to cover it in detail?"

The question came out with more than a little sass, which made Erik feel both better and worse at the same time. Charles used to be snarky, and in reminding him, Erik felt something was familiar. Of course it was unsettling because this _wasn't_ Charles.

Erik held up his hand, asking for a moment to clear his head. He ended up grabbing onto something less Charles-centered, but personal as well. "Okay, you said there were other mutants?"

"In the facility?" Xavier nodded, then winced, his eyes hooded for a moment. "The cryo chambers were malfunctioning, the power draining from them one by one, slowly killing them."

Erik swallowed hard. "None of them survived?" He had to ask. He had no idea who they'd been but they had been his kind, the very ones his Brotherhood had fought to save.

"We tried our best," Xavier said, "but their chambers malfunctioned and although we acted fast, the unsupervised thawing accelerated decay. It... was a horrible way for them to die." The last was added in a a barely audible whisper, and Xavier swallowed hard, looking a little green.

Shoulders sagging, Erik put a hand out to grab the window frame, steadying himself. The thought of a slow and painful death was left unvoiced, but there was no doubt that Xavier meant just this. That they had died slowly, their bodies rotting before their lives had ended.

Xavier stepped back, letting his hand fall back down, obviously having reached for Erik and then thought better of it. "Sit down before you fall down, please," he said, still looking like he wanted to step forward, to aid Erik, touch him, comfort him.

Erik stumbled over to the bed and sat down, staring at his hands. Why had _he_ survived? Feeling more than a little nauseous, he pushed the thought away, grasping for the next thing that came to mind. "McCoy said you weren't a very strong empath," Erik started, guarding his mind even more carefully. "You said you'd made use of Cerebro and found us that way." _'Explain'_ was left unsaid, but hard to ignore.

Xavier grabbed the one chair in the room and pulled it closer to the bed. "Empathy and a touch of telekinesis." He waved his hand and the glass at Erik's bedside wobbled, tilted onto the curved edge of the bottom and Xavier moved fast, blushing furiously as he steadied it. By hand. "And it's a _small_ touch," he said with a roll of his eyes. "But Serena's right, My empathic abilities aren't all that strong, but whatever was left in Cerebro, it was enough juice to boost my ability, for one use."

Erik stared at his water glass for a moment, then shook his head. Xavier was right, not the most impressive show of power. However, that wasn't the important information he was after at that moment. "But how would that allow you to find us?" Erik just didn't get that. He knew that Charles had been able to tell the difference between humans and mutants... However, this Xavier could not have known how to use it, wasn't even a telepath, and Erik doubted Cerebro had ever been strong enough or for that matter intuitive enough to spot him out of all the minds it encountered.

"Dying releases a lot of emotions," Xavier said, his complexion pale, bordering on slightly greenish. "With a dozen people dying in such a small compact area, it was like a crowd shouting right outside your window, pleading for help, every one of them feeling the pain and the despair. Desperation and pain..." He paused and rubbed his temple in a, to Erik, horribly familiar fashion. "It 'tastes' vile in an empath's mind."

"Why did I survive, then?" Erik asked, surprised that he voiced it out loud. He didn't really want to know what had saved him while a dozen of his own kind had perished, apparently in a prolonged and painful way.

"Some might say fate," Xavier said drily, a little more color returning to his cheeks. "Serena ran a few diagnostics on you right after we found you, and according to her, you're an omega level, or as close as one gets to that without being born that way."

"McCoy mentioned that," Erik admitted, thoughts flying through his head. "Longer-lived? More resilient?" That was mostly what he'd gotten from her, as he'd still been too confused to focus.

Xavier nodded. "Yes, more powerful as well. They did something to you that pushed your genetic makeup to the point where you became all those things that define an omega."

Erik rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. It was a lot to take in. He didn't remember much of what the scientists had done to him, the tests they had put him through. At the time they had seemed never-ending and painful in ways he'd never imagined before his capture. He wondered if it had been the drugs robbing him of the memories or his mind's way of keeping him safe, a coping mechanism.

"You should rest," Xavier said quietly, worry coloring his voice, carried in the frown line between his brows that Erik wanted to smooth out with a finger. He ruthlessly squashed the thought.

"All I've been doing is sleep," Erik growled, forcing down a yawn, hiding his feeling of being off balance in his gruffness.

"And your body was put through hell in that cryo-chamber," Xavier admonished, "You may have the hallmarks of one, but even an omega needs to recuperate."

"I don't need rest, I need information, I need to know more," Erik argued, "about ...the world situation, about ...history." He willed Xavier to understand.

And maybe it was the empathy, or maybe just a soft heart, because Xavier nodded, his expression softening, a flash of understanding that made Erik itch for his helmet again. "Get some rest and I'll put together something for you - not CliffsNotes," he said with a grin, "but something in between that and the large amount of archived history."

Erik stared at him for a moment, torn between bowing to the knowledge that he _did_ need rest and wanting more information now. The more he knew, the better he could face the world outside when he managed to get out. Because he _would_ get out. Whether McCoy and Xavier could be trusted was still to be seen, but he had to plan for the future and without knowing and _understanding_ the current world, he'd be less likely to survive. He would if he had to, but if he could get this information, he'd take it.

Xavier gave him a quick look as he stood and put the chair back in place. "I think you would like to know, _should_ know, that you were both right. You, as the catalyst to fight for our rights and buy the needed time, and the Professor for theorizing that the birthrate of mutants would slowly but surely outnumber the non-mutants." With those words he opened the door and nodded goodbye.

Erik stared after him as he left, and then at the door for a long time after it had been closed. So, if the state of the world had changed that much over time, did that mean that mutants were the ruling species? Unless they were working for human oppressors, but both McCoy and Xavier had seemed to be their own people, freely thinking, and they hadn't as such kept anything from Erik, unless... unless they were lying to him? Erik let himself fall back onto the bed with a sigh. He was giving himself a headache was what he was doing. There were too many things he didn't know, too many pieces of the puzzle he didn't possess. Far too many unknown variables. Which meant trusting Xavier for the time being.

He'd wait until Xavier returned with the relevant information, study it and then dig for more answers, until he was satisfied with their truth. Or dissatisfied, but with the knowledge to get by.

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

_July 5th, 2153. Personal entry. CFN-X_

_How does one do right by a man like Magneto... no, a man like Erik Lehnsherr? I want so much to give him all the knowledge I possess in one fell swoop to avoid seeing the desperation on his face, feeling it coming off him like waves crashing on a rocky shore._

_Of course I don't have that kind of power - possibly no one has or have ever had, though I wouldn't be too surprised if the Professor did. He was powerful and memorable in all the ways that I will never be._

_Not that I mind terribly. I've learned to appreciate the ability to go under everyone's radar. Of course the one thing I have 'inherited' from the good Charles Francis Xavier - apart from most of my name - is the one thing that brings Erik the most pain. Sometimes I wish I had the shape shifting abilities of my great-great-great grandmother. What I wouldn't give to change my appearance for his sake. Just so I wouldn't remind him of the Professor so much._

_I'll have to compile as much as possible for him tonight, though I doubt I'll get much sleep. I have to figure out what to avoid for now. Some things will probably be too much information and too soon - too confusing._

_I also think I'll keep out the details on finding him. He already knows the basics, but he doesn't need to know what I did feel while inside Cerebro. I keep wondering... when I put the helmet on, the wires cool against my scalp, I was sure I felt something like... a flicker of a consciousness... No, that's not quite right. More like a distant echo of a mind, not there, but... the leftover impression of it. I wonder if it might've been him, the Professor. He was the last one to use the machine that we know of._

_Maybe it wasn't simply my ability as an empath that zeroed in on the pain of these poor people, maybe this ...'ghost' wanted me to find Erik, specifically._

_I can never let Rhaven read this. If she were to, she'd never let me hear the end of it. And maybe she's right. Maybe it is the hopeless romantic in me wanting the Professor to finally find Magneto? I know he never gave up the hope of locating him._

_Maybe I just want to believe this and gloss over the amplified pain and terror I felt. To feel someone slowly regaining consciousness in a body that is half rotted away..._

_No, while I will remember it, in horrible detail, and they do deserve to have someone know their pain in their final moments, I don't think it furthers anything for Erik to know just how horrendous it was._

_He has enough on his plate as it is._

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

  


**_Crucial system repairs 60% done. Commence research mode._**

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

Sitting on the bed, legs dangling over the side, Erik was slowly but surely working his way through the material Xavier had dropped off. It had taken him a little time to get used to the strangely flat, flexible contraption that could hold all this information - and he'd managed to fry two of them before realizing that his magnetic powers might not be all that good for them. The third one was so far holding up. This one was encased in a clear rubber sleeve which McCoy had handed him, obviously hoping it would make it more durable.

Taking a deep breath, Erik read on. Charles had included a staggering amount of data, even more than a few notes that went all the way back to the Cuban Missile Crisis. The thought of that day on the beach tore at Erik's heart again. He knew he could not change what had happened, but it smarted that he would never be able to talk to Charles again, to ...maybe not make amends, but at least find some common ground, as they hadn't managed in the years after.

He was sure that Charles would eventually have seen things his way, though Erik was convinced that Charles could have never tempted him to his side. He carried too much anger and paranoia in his heart for that.

Erik frowned and wondered why Xavier had given him notes on Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. He remembered the twins, remembered having freed them, convincing them to join the Brotherhood although later they had left, his version of the truth apparently too hard for them to handle. He gamely read on as the notes told him they had joined something called the Avengers, which was apparently a group of self-proclaimed superheroes, mutant and otherwise. There was a small link to a footnote, which Xavier had explained how to access when he had given Erik the first flexie.

He stared at the information. Then read it again. Re-read it for a third time. The little metal that was in the room rattled and the flexie lit up, fizzled and died in his hands, unheeded.

Erik sat, staring unseeingly at the wall, for what felt like ages, but was quite probably only minutes. The door opened, Xavier coming through with more speed than necessary, stopping dead in front of Erik, who barely registered him, completely focused on digesting the information he had just read.

"It can't be," he whispered.

"Mr. Lehnsherr? Erik?" Xavier asked worriedly, stepping forward, into Erik's line of sight.

Erik shook his head. He couldn't comprehend it. If he'd known then what he'd only just learned...

"Erik, please," Xavier said, removing the dead flexie and taking his hands, distress clear in his voice. "Please tell me what's wrong."

"My... I had... I had children. I didn't know," Erik managed to get out, finally lifting his head to look at Xavier, as the thought truly hit him. "My children, my ...twins."

"Oh! I thought you knew, I wouldn't have..." Xavier closed his eyes and made a small, hurt noise before stepping between Erik's knees, slipping his arms around him.

Erik couldn't even find the energy to fight him off. He felt sheltered and cared for, breathing in Xavier's scent, his nose pressed against his chest. He couldn't figure out where to put his hands, but finally settled one wrapping his arms around Xavier's waist and fisting his hands in the back of his shirt.

He had no idea of for how long they stayed like that, but for some odd reason, even though Erik would claim he still didn't trust Xavier, the solidness of the body holding him and the gentle rhythm of Xavier rubbing the back of Erik's head and neck brought him back down to earth.

Extracting themselves from each other would have been more embarrassing if not for the endearing flush to Xavier's face and Erik feeling so emotionally wrung out.

"S-sorry," Xavier stuttered, looking like he'd done something wrong.

"What for?" Erik asked tiredly. What had the man done but offer comfort that Erik had apparently needed?

"I get the feeling..." Xavier said, putting a hand flat on his own chest while searching for the right words, "that you don't much like physical contact - or at least that I... that you feel uneasy around me because I look like the Professor."

Erik looked at him for a moment, digesting this. He wasn't wrong, but Erik wasn't about to tell him that it kind of hurt looking at him, knowing that what he'd wanted when he'd been younger was no longer possible, and that Xavier was a constant visual reminder. However, he felt disinclined to share his old unrequited love with Charles' grand-however-many-times-child.

"I was never much of the touchy feely type," he said quietly, then cleared his throat. "But thank you - I might've needed that, whether or not I consciously knew it."

"I caused it," Xavier said, wincing. "I mean, I should have been more careful, should have known..."

"Hey!" Erik snapped his fingers, drawing Xavier's attention again. "How could you have known? Unless my past is minutely described, the chances of you knowing what constitutes emotional pitfalls to me are slim to none, right?"

Xavier bit his lower lip and nodded, then shrugged, then shook his head a little. "Your life kind of is? Maybe not _detailed_ detailed, but..."

Erik felt his stomach drop. How could all this be general knowledge? It was a horrible thought to have, that eventually, everyone who would have wanted to could have accessed this information. Everyone could have known - did know. Everyone but Erik himself.

"It's mostly vague," Xavier hurriedly carried on. "Some of it is public knowledge, or at least accessible - I guess some of it has been warped through the years to fit with the general media consumption..."

Erik snapped his fingers again, stopping Xavier's monologue. It worked again, and Erik was beginning to enjoy doing it, too.

"What do you mean by 'media consumption'?" he asked, not sure he wanted the answer to that.

"I shouldn't be telling you this yet," Xavier said with a sigh, "but you _are_ a legend, much of it owed to the Professor and how he spoke of you, to how hard the Brotherhood fought in your name even after you disappeared." Xavier shrugged. "I guess your persona took on a life of its own."

Erik rubbed his forehead, feeling a hell of a headache coming on. "Did you include any of that in the history lesson?" he asked, snippier than he'd intended. While he'd always used the media's fear and fascination with him to his own advantage, it was a double edged sword and it felt as if the world might know more about him than he cared for.

"No, but I'll make it available for you when I bring back a new flexie," Xavier said quietly. "I ah... also didn't want to bring it up, but at some point you will want to get out of here - you might want to know that the media has done what it does every few years - claiming your return - it's like a sighting of Elvis or the yeti - but it's a coincidence we didn't need."

"So you're saying I'd be recognized?" Erik asked, wondering what they'd do if he was.

"I doubt it," Xavier replied. "Most of the pictures of you have either been blurry or you've worn the helmet. And... erm, your hair, looks great, but definitely helps with the disguise for now."

Erik couldn't help but smile at the comment, which was accompanied by a flush to Xavier's cheeks. "Well, I've never been vain and if it aids me for now, I'm not complaining." He frowned and looked at Xavier. "Do I want to know how the rumor of my return started this time around?"

Xavier shrugged. "I used Cerebro in a museum at the grand opening, at the request of the museum board of directors. It was for a photo they wanted to do. Someone tracked down what the coordinates led to and, not having shared what we found, people make their own guesses - some more outrageous than others, but those tend to stick for a while. Bringing up anything to do with the Xavier name tends to drag yours with it eventually."

Erik rubbed his face tiredly. On top of the emotional hit he'd taken, all this... he didn't want to have to deal with it right now. He still wanted to wallow in the pain of having held and subsequently lost his 'family'.

"Get some rest, I'll come back with a new flexie for you so you can continue your reading," Xavier said quietly.

As the door closed behind Xavier, Erik thought to himself that as easy as it was accessing the information on these flexies, he wouldn't have fried a book or a file folder when he got upset. Of course the pages would have shown traces of the tears that fell unheeded from his eyes. They would have smudged the inked names of his children.

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

_July 7th, 2153. Personal entry. CFN-X_

_I thought I had been so careful._

_One little, stupid footnote and I may have caused more damage than I want to think about. The anguish I felt from him all the way to my office five floors further up... I don't normally pick up other people's emotions from such a distance and never without visual aid. I could feel his surprise and pain, mixed with the pride of knowing that he had children and that they had lived on. I didn't know he hadn't known at that point. I became too sure that the texts I'd found didn't have any pitfalls that might trigger a strong emotional reaction in him._

_How wrong I was. I've spent half the night compiling the new texts. Of course I can't be sure that there isn't information in there that will have a harsh impact as well, but I've done what I can to check. Of course I don't think I can top the fact that Erik had children and never knew while they were alive._

_I've included all the information on the Lehnsherr-Maximoff family line. I owe him that much. I don't think it's what he'll dig into right away, but it's there for him when he wants it. I just wish... well, if wishes were horses._

_I held him today. Tightly. I wish so much my journal didn't just sound like the diary of a 14 year old school girl. But it felt amazing, even if my mental shields were pummelled with his anger and despair at the new-found knowledge. I get what the Professor meant in his journals about how Erik Lehnsherr's sharp mind was one of a kind and that it had been magnificent if maddening to touch. And I can't even read it. I'm only getting the emotions and they are potent and harsh as well as beautiful and strong. Maybe there's something about Erik Lehnsherr that draws an Xavier like the proverbial moth to a flame?_

_On a more personal note, as if my inappropriate attraction to Erik isn't personal enough, the psychic echo has finally begun fading. I can only hope that it takes some of my infatuation with it and returns my self control to me._

_With the amount of wishes I'm making, I should have an enormous herd of horses by now._

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

  


**_Specimen 039. Escape confirmed. Status: unknown. Location: unknown. Information needed._**

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

Xavier dropped off the new flexie the next morning, leaving Erik to read on his own. And it was an eye-opener. All the things that his past had been made into. He could trace it back to a few years after his disappearance. He'd been taken in July 1973, but apparently there had been sightings of him as far as into 1975. "Mystique," he said quietly to himself. It had to be. It was either that or people had been seeing things.

If it had been merely reports of sightings, he might have thought it so, but there were a few grainy photos dated after his disappearance and the whole situation had Mystique's fingerprints all over it.

Then... for nearly a decade there had been nothing. Until early-to-mid '80s when the name Magneto was suddenly brought forth again. Erik frowned. He went back in the timeline, his eye drawn to the words 'riot' and 'anti-mutant' in the year 1979.

Detroit, MI, Erik read, was where the first recorded anti-mutant demonstration happened. It had never been proved what had happened, but the demonstration had gone wrong and become an outright riot. There were hints that possibly the Brotherhood had been involved, but no proof. Which only meant Erik didn't quite believe it. He'd taught them to make a statement. Keeping quiet was not what he'd taught them.

Fifty six people killed, more than three hundred wounded. Taking a deep breath, Erik carried on reading, slower, paying more attention. It _had_ happened then. Through that year and into the early '80s, riots happened more often and... Erik sucked in his breath as a picture of Charles appeared. Of him looking so much older, a little tired, a lot severe and ...bald. "Well, there goes the vanity, darling," Erik muttered with a small smile, sadness mixing with humor.

He kept reading, surprised and a little proud as Charles had gone ahead and outed himself, had set himself up as the spokesperson of their people. Again, Erik might not have agreed with him on a lot of things, but it had irked him that Charles had always preached secrecy and hiding. And Charles was charming, well spoken. For what Charles wanted, the cohabitation (at this Erik snorted), he was perfect.

Erik scrolled on and then stopped, scrolling back.

"Extraterrestrials?" Erik blinked at the information and re-read it.

_In 1981, the Earth received its first alien visitor. The Shi'ar, led by Lilandra Neramani came to our solar system on the hunt for her sister, a wanted war criminal by the name of Deathbird. For further information on the Shi'ar and Princess Lilandra, please see the Journals of Professor Charles Francis Xavier vols XIV-XVI._

Erik touched the link to the Xavier journals and was glad to see that the young Xavier had included those in the material.

He read and he read and hours later, after dark had fallen outside, he put the flexie down and blinked rapidly, trying to chase away the tiredness. It read like science fiction and not fact. Extraterrestrial influence on Earth, not to mention an actual _war_ years after that - bringing the very same race back to earth to form an alliance against a common foe. And Charles had...

A knock to the door tore him from his confused thoughts. "Yes?"

Xavier stepped through the door, carrying a tray of the bland food McCoy insisted he was going to live on for a few more days still.

Erik felt the usual pang, a split second of recognition with a following regret. It wasn't as bad as it had been that very first day, when he had woken to find what he wanted the most at his side, only to realize that time and fate had dealt him a cruel hand.

Erik stared at him, trying to see the alien influence.

"Is something wrong?" Xavier asked, frowning as he set down the meal next to Erik's bed and dropped a bag on the floor.

"I'm looking for physical alien attributes," Erik admitted before he could stop himself.

Xavier stared at him, then laughed out loud, flushing under Erik's scrutiny. "I'm afraid you'll find little," he said with a shrug. "A thing I think you'd like to know is that as more and more mutants were born, physical mutations became seen as attractive and have been pretty much revered for the last couple of generations."

Erik gestured for him to continue. He found that more than a little interesting. He might even admit that it warmed his heart to hear, but he was just as puzzled by the flash of sadness on Xavier's face.

"My family line has a history of physical mutations," he explained. "You might not have come across it in there, but my great-great-grandfather was Mystique's son - and he inherited his looks from his mother as well as his father."

When Erik stared at him, more than a little stunned, Xavier laughed and continued. "Oh, you hadn't come across that then. His father was Azazel, one of your men." Xavier shrugged. "And adding Shi'ar genetics into the game, we had an even greater chance of achieving this. I don't think anyone in our family tree has ever married with that in mind, but the line descending from the Shi'ar has generally had the features of theirs - height, lithe built, the feather-like hair." He gestured at himself. "Not that I have much to show for any of that."

Erik wanted to tell him he was more beautiful than any of the images he'd seen in the history books of the Shi'ar - but clamped down hard on that line of thought before it could grow to mean more than he was ready to allow it to.

"Enough about me," Xavier said, shaking his head and pointing at the food. "Eat." He picked the bag up and put it on the bed when Erik complied and got started on his dinner. "I've brought you some clothes that should fit. Nothing as flashy as your old uniforms, I fear," he said with a laugh, "but I figured you were getting sick and tired of being cooped up in here."

"You're allowing me out of here?" Erik was a little surprised.

"Of course," Xavier said, giving him an odd look, "this is merely a medical facility owned by the XavGen corporation, and if you're amenable, I can offer you a room at my family home."

"In Westchester?" Erik asked quietly. He had... good memories of his short stay there. Of nights in the study with the chessboard and a drink, of good natured debates and days spent honing the powers of the children, not to mention his own control.

Xavier nodded. "Yeah, I mean, it's probably nothing like you remember it, it's been leveled to the ground so many times and rebuilt. Even the sub levels have been redone more than once, most recently to disarm some of the booby traps from when it served as a base for the resistance during the..." he trailed off, looking mildly embarrassed. "Sorry, I'm rambling," he muttered. He stared at Erik for a moment then stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides, looked a little ill at ease and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I mean, if you want to go there... with me. I live there."

Erik swallowed hard. This Charles was... definitely nothing like his Charles had been. Charles would have simply expected Erik to say yes. It might've been because of his telepathy, that he was always so sure of himself and how other people would react, but... Erik kind of missed that cockiness and self assuredness, but he was also beginning to find it a little endearing that Xavier was nothing like that, that he was courteous and waited for Erik to make his decision.

"I'd be happy to get out of here," Erik said quietly, meaning it, in every way. "I also want to read more about all this weird stuff you call history," he admitted with a laugh, trying to undo the tight set of Xavier's shoulders.

It obviously worked, as Xavier flushed and nodded, a smile softening his face. "If you get dressed, I'll go have a final word with Serena. She said there were specific nutritional supplements that you need to take for a while yet."

Erik nodded. "Go ahead, I'll finish eating and get dressed." Now that Xavier had mentioned leaving the room Erik had been in since he'd woken up, he felt more alive. There was a whole world out there where being a mutant was the norm, where his war was outdated.

When Xavier had left him, Erik felt a sadness filling his chest for a moment. Outdated, indeed. But he'd rather be obsolete and his kind finding what they deserved, a safe world to live in, than his being needed.

And that was what he would keep telling himself. He was fine with not being needed, with not having a cause to fight for.

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

  


**_Repairs: 90%. Objective: Locate and terminate Specimen039. Possible location: found. Readings: Electromagnetic disturbance._**

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

Erik watched Xavier as they crossed the subterranean parking garage. He wondered why the man looked a little nervous, as if he expected them to be mugged. There were only a few vehicles parked there, their metal singing to him. There was less in them than the cars of his time, but it was still a comforting feeling to him.

"Should I worry about anything?" Erik asked quietly, stretching his powers. He could feel the steel in the building, but nothing moving. If he looked for anything out of the ordinary, there was plenty, but he'd slowly been letting his powers drift through the building, realizing that it had technology that he had never imagined could exist and a lot of it had some components of metal as well.

Xavier shook his head and led Erik up to a silver four-doored car that was of no make or model Erik had ever seen. Erik had no way of comparing it to anything from his own time, but it looked fast and sleek. In some ways it reminded Erik of the vintage cars in Charles' garage centuries before.

Dropping his bag into the back seat, Xavier gestured for Erik to get into the passenger side of the car. Erik stared at the door, trying to figure out where the door handle was, gave up and just flicked it with his power. Getting in, he stared at the driver's side, where the door was open, but Xavier was still standing outside.

Leaning to the side across the driver's seat, Erik cast a quick glance at the dashboard. Wasn't much he could recognize from the cars he knew. Tilting his head up, he looked up at Xavier with a questioning look. "You alright? We going?" The closer he came to leaving this building, the more antsy he felt.

Xavier gave him a look like a deer caught in the headlights, flushed, and quickly got in - so quickly in fact, that he nearly collided with Erik who was scrambling to get back into his own seat.

Erik sat back, not looking at Xavier, who seemed more than a little flustered as he pressed a sequence into the dark plate of the dashboard. A moment later it lit up and Erik recognized the speedometer but little else.

"Just a moment," Xavier said, tapping in another sequence. "The seatbelt will deploy itself, so don't get startled."

Erik steeled himself and then came the woosh of the seatbelt as laced itself across his chest and into the lock. Feeling the metal loop over his body to slide into place, having trailed something across his chest that was a lot more durable than what he'd ever seen before, made Erik twitch a little.

Not a bad twitch, mind, but the constant hum of metal that was part of unknown technology to him, left him in two minds. On the one hand, he felt out of place and was glad that Charles had warned him, because he might've reacted badly to it if he'd not.

On the other hand, the pulses of metal in the most unforeseen places felt reassuring and, in some cases, even a little exciting.

Not that he was sharing the latter with Xavier. Considering how easily the boy blushed, it didn't take a genius to figure out that talking about getting physically excited like that would probably unsettle him.

Of course, Erik simply put the thought aside for later, just in case he might need to embarrass Xavier. He was feeling almost giddy at the prospect of getting out of his tower.

Xavier plotted something into the display that Erik figured was a route to their destination, judging from the map. He still seemed tense, but before Erik could address it, the car hummed to life and they were sliding soundlessly through the underground garage. Once on street level, Erik found himself staring out of the window at the cleanliness and all the light! It was like Las Vegas, only less garish.

Xavier did something and the hum of the car changed. Erik let out a surprised huff, his whole body feeling as though it was lighting up like a Roman candle. Like he was being recharged from flat to 200% in less than ten seconds.

A moan escaped him and Erik would have been embarrassed if he hadn't been busy cataloging what it was doing to him, how good it felt, and...

"Erik?" Xavier put a hand on Erik's arm and it was electrifying, to say the least. "Whoa! Erik, what the hell?"

"What did you do?" Erik panted out, squirming in his seat, trying to get his body back under control. He realized the whole car was... like a big conductor.

"Oh shit," Xavier said, sounding torn between amused and embarrassed. "I didn't even think about that. The city and its roads are divided into sections that make up the Grid - the cars slot into a magnetic field generated by the Grid and the Grid itself generates energy for the entire city."

"No kidding?" Erik said, forcing back a moan. It was an amazing jolt through his body but it left him less in control than he would have preferred.

"Do you want me to stop?" Xavier sounded worried now. "I can take it off the Grid if that helps."

Erik couldn't get himself to look at him, too busy fighting down the thrumming of his own body, his own power. He did manage, of course, once he'd felt out the shape, size and strength of the field. And damn, that was a hell of an impressive Grid.

Once there, he could push the effect it had on him down, but it still felt rejuvenating, still made him feel more alive than anything else had ever managed to. "No, I'm good," he told Xavier, his breathing returning to normal. "I just wasn't expecting anything like that." He had to wonder why he hadn't felt it earlier, but maybe the combination of being high up and feeling weak as a kitten had prevented him from noticing.

He wondered what Xavier was reading off him at that very moment. With the kid being an empath, he could probably tell that the effect was making Erik aroused as well. A quick look to the side told Erik that Xavier was staring out the front of the car, very much _not_ looking at Erik. And more flushed than Erik had expected.

"Sorry," he said, not sorry at all. To him it felt natural and he had to admit that his introduction to this time, this world, was very promising if things ran on electromagnetic fields like this.

"Don't be," Xavier said, taking a deep breath, shooting him an embarrassed grin. "I should have expected that it would do something out of the ordinary to you. You're very in tune with any magnetic fields, aren't you?"

Erik recognized the urge to focus on science facts. His Charles had occasionally done the same if a topic had become too private or too... intimate.

He allowed himself to enjoy the feeling for now, his power flourishing in such a lovely way. "If by that, you mean 'do I feel the Earth's magnetic fields?' The answer is yes. I'm sensitive to them, to changes."

"Can you feel if a solar flare interferes with it?"

Erik grinned. He had kind of missed this intense interest in his powers and it was with a pang at the memory that he realized that no one had showed it this much interest since Charles. "I've never checked dates and times, but probably - I feel any interference in the fields." Well, the scientists had, but he would rather not think about that. What he missed was the delight Charles had taken in any mutation, great and small.

Xavier hummed under his breath.

Erik realized that at some point, Xavier had relaxed, sitting back in his seat and it was very obvious that the car was capable of driving itself. Erik couldn't help but feel out the metal of it, ready to take over if needed.

"You seemed tense when we left the XavGen tower," Erik said, addressing Xavier's earlier show of worry at the garage. "Anything I should worry about?"

Xavier sighed deeply, "Not right now, but yeah, we'll have to deal with it eventually. Remember I told you about the media? They have a general interest in my life because of the family name, and because of that little incident at the museum. Knowing them, they'll be trying to get pictures and pictures of me would probably mean pictures of you as well." He rubbed the back of his head.

Erik stared at him. The thought of how the world might react to learning that he was still alive seemed so... surreal to him. He couldn't quite imagine the fuss, unless there were still arrest warrants out there with his name on them. He wouldn't put it past any government, really.

Chuckling, Xavier turned his head to look at him. "I told you, you're a living legend. Just as Captain America was thawed out and returned to fight for humanity, you have been thawed out and they will see you as an icon whether you want it or not."

Erik frowned. The Captain America he was familiar with had disappeared during the war.

"Sorry, that happened about a year after you disappeared," Xavier muttered. "I'll find the relevant texts for you - he and the Avengers fought alongside mutants during many battles, but anyway, yeah, they'll all want a piece of you if they find out who you are."

Taking a deep breath, Erik tried to figure out how that piece of information fit.

"Of course," Xavier continued after a moment of silence, "the mansion is private grounds, not that that always helps, but we can't stay there indefinitely. So we'll have to figure out what to do about the media before they cook up their own inflated and fictional version of the truth."

"That bad?" Erik asked with a laugh. The press had been convenient to him in the past, spreading the fear of his Brotherhood among humans.

"Worse," Xavier admitted. "They don't tend to take no for an answer, and you're a high profile historical figure - bordering on sainthood or at least the stuff that legends are made of."

Erik shook his head. "How can I be - I mean, I've read a lot of the historical articles you gave me, but as far as I can tell, Charles was a much more prominent figure."

Xavier shook his head. "To a certain point, yes, but you became a symbol of our kind, a symbol of never giving up or giving in."

Erik felt a little embarrassed for some odd reason, at the passionate tone of Xavier's voice. A little starstruck, a little hero-worshipping... It made him feel weird.

Once they had left the city behind, the night grew darker around them. Erik realized that the Grid Charles had mentioned earlier had a sort of light to it. Or maybe...

"Does the Grid actually give off light?" he asked, eyes glued to it. It was magnificent to him - almost like a subdued, stable, just above ground version of the Aurora Borealis. He turned his head for a moment to find Xavier looking at him with a strangely wondering expression.

Xavier quickly looked out ahead. "I've heard mention of it before," he answered, "but it's not something that's visible to most people."

"So we're back at the ability to feel the magnetic field?" Erik mused, trying to set Xavier off, to get him to ramble on. Not only was it slightly endearing, Xavier's voice was familiar to him by now and he liked listening to him going on and on about something. Not that he was going to tell him that.

However, Xavier merely hummed in agreement, not falling for Erik's lure.

They carried on in silence and Erik allowed himself the pleasure of getting a little lost in the Grid. He could actually let his awareness of magnetism and metal float on it, reaching out even further than he'd normally be able to. Like his awareness was catching a ride. As he adjusted to it, it brought him a feeling of calm, his body and mind falling into the … the 'rhythm' of it, making him zone out a little.

When the mansion came up ahead, Erik could only stare. It looked almost like it had back when he had been there first. "I thought you said it had been rebuilt more than a few times," Erik mused, "was it really rebuilt exactly, every time?"

"Oh, goodness no," Xavier said with a laugh as the car drove itself in through the open garage doors. "This is as close as it could be done to the style originally used. When it was first rebuilt, it was taken into account that it was a school and expanded appropriately."

"And you're not running a school?" Erik couldn't help but ask. He wasn't even sure what Xavier did for a living.

"Oh no," Xavier explained as he keyed in a sequence in the control panel of the car and the seat belts retracted themselves, the car turning itself off and the doors popping open. "I work with genetics and nanotech research, specializing in medicine that is adaptable to the constant variations of the mutant gene."

Erik missed the humming of the grid through the car, but he could still feel it, vaguely, all around. "So disease hasn't been eradicated?" he asked. It would have been one of those things he would have thought the future would manage. World peace and health.

"Like everything else, viruses and genetically inherited diseases tend to mutate," Xavier replied as he exited the car.

Erik followed suit. "So you don't use the place for a school," he repeated, looking around the large garage, seeing only another car, and something that looked like a futuristic motorbike. "A lot of space for... nothing?"

Xavier smiled softly as he pulled the bag from the car before shutting it and gesturing for Erik to follow him. "No, I live here on my own - the rebuild was done by my grandfather who was obsessed with family history and finished by my late parents. Most of the rooms are locked off and empty, but I've had a room prepared for you. I have a couple of staff members who come once or twice a week to check the house is still standing."

Erik grinned. Considering what Xavier had said about the history of the mansion, it might be a prudent thing to do. He wanted to ask about Xavier's parents, but he was still unsure how welcome personal questions like that would be.

It was with some relief that Erik was shown to a room that was nowhere near the one he had occupied last and looked like a generic room of the mansion. No ghosts to speak of, then.

"I'll... let you get settled in," Xavier said, standing awkwardly in the doorway. He put the bag down on the floor and looked like he was caught between wanting to run and wanting to stay. "The bathroom is through there - towels are under the sink. Anything else, I'm across the hallway, feel free to ask. Erm... there's clothes in the closet - they should fit fairly well."

Erik nodded. He wasn't sure what to say at all, but …"Thank you," he managed, meaning it. As much as he was getting used to the little differences from his own time, he had had a few moments of unease and the room here at the mansion was far more welcoming than the white walls of the hospital room at XavGen had been.

"You're welcome," Xavier said, looking a little more at ease, "goodnight then."

"Night," Erik replied, watching Xavier stare at him for a moment before hurriedly turning and fleeing to his own room.

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

_July 8th, 2153. Personal entry. CFN-X_

_If there is an award for lame behavior, I have to be the winner. I should be used to being around him by now, but I still can't stop myself from prattling on about the first, the best topic. He makes me nervous, makes me feel like... like I really don't want to do anything wrong, and I don't mean nervous in the bad sense, but it makes me ramble on when I know I should stop. I wonder if he thinks I chose my profession out of a fascination with the Professor. He probably does._

_He couldn't be further from the truth, though. I just wish my mothers had lived long enough to see me solve the genetic code that caused mother Charlotte's death. I wish mother Raven had as well before she died in that blasted earthquake._

_At least I've been capable of eradicating the genetic deficiency from the Braddock family line. In case I want children as well..._

_Children... it brings me full circle back to Erik, doesn't it?_

_No one can argue that he isn't an attractive man - even the white hair gives him this strange, but very gorgeous look. I really do feel like an utter idiot around him. Like I can't say the right thing. I still feel a shadow of that damned psionic echo so I can't be sure. I'm more and more sure that it's a 'ghost' imprint of the Professor's mind left behind in Cerebro. It's fast fading, but between the crush on Magneto of my teenage years and the fondness I know the Professor had for him... I can't be entirely sure if it's just good old fashioned lust at play mixed with emotions that aren't mine._

_The display of power with the car door, and oh my, the Grid... The feelings I was getting from him, the ... erm, enjoyment he was radiating. Yeah._

_Erik's an attractive man, a sad man, an angry man... but gorgeous and lovely and..._

_...I'm screwed._

_Speaking of screwed. I keep expecting the pap-cams to pop up. The rumors of what we found at the base are still running rampant. Everything from, heh, Captain America refrozen to planet-destroying technology. Of course, as always, theories of the reappearance of Magneto are thrown in there. If they knew how close they are to the truth for once..._

_SHIELD at least insists on secrecy for now and I can only agree. It's about all I agree with them on when it comes to Erik, but for now, they're leaving us be._

_Of course, if Erik is caught on a pap-cam and recognized... all bets are off._

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

  


**_Location of Specimen 039: Unknown. Status of mutant threat: 80%. Prime objective: Locate Specimen 039. Terminate Specimen 039. Secondary objective..._**

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

The next morning, Erik woke at dawn. For a few seconds he stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling, then remembered where he was. Sitting up slowly, he looked around the room, this time in early morning daylight. It did look a lot like the rooms had back when Charles had brought them here after the attack on the CIA facility, but Erik could spot the odd things that were off. What looked like metal was more often than not some sort of plastic, which, of course, Erik could not feel. He reached out and touched the paneling on the wall at the head of the bed, realizing that this too was something artificial, not real wood.

A damned good replica, but not the real thing.

Erik left the bed unmade and walked to the closet, having a look inside. Much to his delight he found a pair of running shoes, shorts and a t-shirt that fit perfectly. He didn't give it much thought as to why Xavier would have clothes around that would fit him. Maybe he had been confident that Erik would agree to come with him? It caused a flutter in the pit of his stomach. On the one hand, he liked seeing a little more self-confidence in Xavier. On the other hand, it was unbearably ...cute to have Xavier so obviously at times reeling.

The moment of tentative hopefulness he had witnessed the previous day, when Xavier had asked if he wanted to come, had been unsettling. It was not a look that belonged on that face. As much as Charles' annoying cocky attitude had rubbed him the wrong way at times, he sort of missed it now. Or maybe he just wanted to see every mutant walking with their head held high - in every sense of the word.

Walking the quiet hallways, heading out of the back door of the kitchen, which was still here he remembered it, Erik set off, following paths that hadn't changed much in two centuries. He was both thankful and resentful that Charles' family had opted to restore the mansion and the area to its original layout. It made him feel more at ease with no reminders of where he was stranded. Like a pocket out of the timeline itself.

However, as he sped up and ran through the forest at the bottom of the great big grassy area, he knew it also ripped open old wounds. The fact was that he would return to the mansion, tired and worn out from even a short run, but Charles wouldn't be there to greet him, to say his good morning in a sleepy voice as he watched and waited for the kettle to finish boiling so he could have his tea.

Those moments, those mornings, before the kids would roll out of bed, were some of the happiest Erik could remember. Those and the nights in front of the fire with the chessboard as their only battlefield. Erik huffed out an annoyed breath and ran faster, wanting to leave the memories of could-have-beens behind.

His current problems were more along the lines of what the hell he was supposed to do with his life? What was he supposed to do with Xavier? So far he and McCoy were the only two people from this time that he had interacted with. What was he going to do if or when he was recognized? From what he had found in the texts and what Xavier had said, the knowledge of what he looked like had not been widely known. That, at least, he could thank the helmet for.

He felt a momentary pang of worry as he thought about the helmet. Of course, this Xavier wasn't a telepath, like McCoy had said, but there were bound to be other telepaths out there and in the years since he had taken it from Shaw, Erik had grown used to wearing it, for the protection it had offered.

He felt a little naked without it, or rather, exposed.

As for Charles Xavier - this current version of him anyway... Erik shook his head and tried to fight off a small smile. He had to admit that he was beginning to like the man for who he was and not who he looked like. It didn't mean that he was ready to admit that he might find the guy attractive for reasons other than the resemblance he had to the Charles Xavier Erik had known.

Coming back around the estate, Erik felt winded. His body was aching, his lungs straining, and it probably hadn't been such a good idea to do this after less than a week on his feet. But of course, Erik's body was much like his mind and powers, a weapon to be honed, retrained when lost.

Slipping back in through the kitchen entrance, Erik stopped in his tracks, finding a girl standing at the kitchen table with a mug halfway raised to her lips, staring at him. She was nearly as tall as he was, slender and dressed in a casual suit cut to flatter her figure. Her hair, though... Erik stared back.

So that was what the Shi'ar gene looked like watered down by a few generations. Her hair was more feathers than actual hair, lending her a rather... exotic look. Though it fit her high cheekbones and sharp eyes quite well.

"Rhaven..." Xavier said, walking through the door, stopping when he caught sight of Erik.

The girl raised an eyebrow and looked from one to the other, then back to Xavier with a look of unholy glee on her face. She stepped forward and held her hand out to Erik. "Rhaven Stark-Xavier," she said, "and you must be Erik."

Erik didn't miss the flirtatious smile and the widening of her eyes. While he'd happily admit that she was pretty, he was far too old to let that influence him. "I am," he said, taking her hand and shaking it before dropping it again. He hadn't missed that the tilt of her hand was inviting him to lift it for a kiss. A bit old-fashioned and a lot intimate, but while she wore Mystique's name, he was not about to simply trust another Xavier by default.

She pouted and turned back to Xavier to hand him a mug of something she had obviously made for him.

Xavier was still staring at Erik with a slightly glassy look on his face, licking his lips nervously.

"Charles," Rhaven said with a sigh, moving the mug back and forth to catch his attention. "I'm sure your mothers taught you better manners than to ignore a lady who has made you tea."

Xavier blinked rapidly a few times, then focused on the mug and finally took it.

Erik raised an eyebrow. "Mothers?" he found himself asking. Maybe Xavier's father had remarried at some point.

"Yeah, ask Charles how his mothers managed to have a child without involving a man's..." Rhaven began.

"Rhaven!" Xavier flushed as he shot her a dark look.

"What? It's an interesting use of a mutation, is all I'm saying," Rhaven said, rolling her eyes. "Erik being who he is will surely find it fascinating." She gave them both another look and grinned lewdly at Xavier. "Well, I have to be going anyway," she said with a shrug, putting her own, now-empty mug down on the kitchen table. "I only wanted to drop off the lab tests for you, and I have a meeting with a new client in a few hours, so I'll be on my way."

Xavier shot her an annoyed look, but embraced her with his free arm willingly enough and kissed her on the cheek.

"Ta-ta!" she called and waved at them before heading out towards the main entrance.

"Stark Xavier?" Erik asked. Howard Stark had been a famous name back when Erik had lived, so...

"Our families crossed at one point," Xavier admitted. "It caused a hell of stir when James Stark married William Xavier."

"Because they were both men?" Erik guessed. He knew the stigma of preferring one's own gender and if that had been the case, maybe there were a few things the world had not yet accepted, socially.

Xavier gave him a surprised look. "No, of course not. The problem was that the Stark family line was human and not mutant." He grinned softly. "The two lines of the Xavier family tree didn't speak for nearly a generation because of this, but these days Rhaven works as the head of my research and development department - and general pain in the ass."

Erik stepped forward to root through a couple of cupboards to find a glass. He used the moment to order his thoughts. "So, when Rhaven talked about your mothers, you really did have two mothers?"

Xavier cleared his throat. "Yes, but all I'm saying in this case is that Raven, my mother, was named after the same Raven that you knew, was capable of changing gender and thus became the fathering part of the couple while my mother Charlotte was the one to carry me."

Erik raised an eyebrow and stepped up close to Xavier to get to the sink. So the late parents he had mentioned had both been women as well as mutants.

"That's all said on the topic of my mothers having sex," Xavier said, making a disgusted face.

"Grow up," Erik said with a laugh, feeling a little lighter at the thought that Raven's name was still carried down through the Xavier family line. Looking up, he found Xavier stepping back a few steps, as if he had suddenly realized he'd been standing a little too close to Erik.

"I ah...," Xavier said, looking flustered, "I'm going to make breakfast if you want some when you've had your... eh, shower."

Erik nodded his thanks. "Coffee?" he asked, because it was one of the things McCoy had denied him since he'd woken up.

"Not yet," Xavier said with a sad look, "Serena sad not for another week at least."

Erik made a face. Trust a doctor to take one of the simple pleasures of life away from him.

"She said a week," Xavier said with a laugh as he retreated to hide with his head inside the now-open fridge. "Not for the rest of your life."

Erik shook his head as he put the glass by the sink and made to leave the kitchen, only momentarily distracted by Xavier's backside as the man leaned forward to reach for something inside the fridge. Forcing his eyes forward, he peeled out of the sweat soaked t-shirt he was wearing.

"I forgot to ask where to put any laundry," Erik said belatedly as he stopped in the doorway.

Xavier stood straight and turned around, mouth open to answer him. For a moment, he stood stock-still and didn't say anything, then turned hastily back to the fridge. "Just drop it into the small compartment in the bathroom marked 'laundry'. The automated system will take care of the rest."

Erik stared at the flushed back of Xavier's neck, but the man refused to turn around. With a shrug, he turned and left the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

_July 9th, 2153. Personal entry. CFN-X_

_Yes, screwed. Royally so. First Rhaven comes by and she's no fool. She knows my obsession with Magneto in my teenage years._

_I dread to think what might happen if she ends up alone in a room with him. She'll tell him all the most embarrassing things from our childhood and teenage years. She, of all people, knows more about me than anyone else._

_And then Erik had to go and take off his damned shirt. Not to mention that he's upstairs in the shower right now, all, wet and... yeah. After last night's drive home, how can I not think of him as a sensual person? I would have been blind to not see what the magnetic field of the Grid did to him. At one point he looked blissed out and I had to push down the thought of if that would be how he looked during sex._

_So... I'm screwed, alright, and not in a fun way._

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

It took Erik a few minutes to figure out the shower settings - a little too futuristic for his tastes, but then again, he was fairly sure he would become well-acquainted with that feeling over time. But a moment later, hot water flowed down over him, washing the sweat off his skin. Erik let out a deep sigh, just enjoying it for a moment before soaping up to get clean.

While he still felt a bit off after his involuntary years-long sleep, his body was beginning to respond better to his demands. McCoy had called him a skinny bastard, and Erik wasn't blind to the fact that he was lean and sinewy, in need of, as she'd said, a few good meals. Life as head of the Brotherhood, often on the run or in hiding had not been kind to him. His face had lines, his body was criss-crossed with scars - most of them faded, but still a hint of white where the pigmentation of the skin would never be the same.

Shutting off the shower, he went to the mirror above the sink. According to McCoy, he was not going to age much more - at least not for a very long time. An Omega level mutant. She had called it a secondary mutation. Where the genetics were so evolved that they fought off not only disease, but also aging.

Erik slid a hand down over his chest, shedding water from his skin. Taking a deep breath, he fought down the twitch of his libido. He was not going to look at Xavier the way he had a moment ago in the kitchen. Bent forward, his body more compact than Erik's own, but so much like...

He curled his fingers into a loose fist, stopping over his abdomen. He would be a blind fool if he thought that Xavier wasn't in some way interested in him, but more than once the man had pulled back, be it out of coyness, embarrassment or simply nerves.... or possibly something else, that Erik did not have enough information to make any guesses at.

Looking up, Erik met his own eyes in the mirror. He wasn't dead, nor blind. Xavier had his own charms. For one, he wasn't as cocky as Charles had been, not quite as self-assured either. Erik had to wonder if he could own Xavier in a way he could never have hoped to have Charles.

It was a dangerous thought, Erik knew. Xavier was, for better or worse, his rock of calm in unknown waters. Erik pushed the thought away, grabbed a towel and briskly dried himself off. He had to keep a clear head and not make things more difficult for himself by starting something when he wasn't sure where it would lead and maybe even damaging his relationship with his best defense and ally in the process.

Erik took what he needed from the closet. A simple pair of trousers and a t-shirt. The mansion was more than warm enough to warrant it and he walked slowly through the hallways, down the stairs, heading for the kitchen once again - following the enticing scent of breakfast. His mouth watered as he realized he could smell bacon - could almost hear the sizzling of it.

He thought for a moment that he heard Xavier talking to someone, but it was possible that he'd just issued a few commands to the computer system that quietly ran the electronics of the house. Another thing Erik would have to get used to. No light switches, but a simple, verbal command that would switch the lights on or off in a room.

Leaning against the open door, Erik watched Xavier navigate the kitchen. It was so much not like Charles, who he'd never seen cook. Xavier looked so much at home, as if this was something he did every day. Hell, for all Erik knew, he did.

"I thought you'd have a cook," Erik finally said.

Xavier chuckled. "I told you I don't keep much of a staff here."

"So you cook for yourself," Erik said, taking a deep breath, enjoying the scents.

"I like cooking," Xavier admitted, setting down two plates of eggs, bacon and toast. "And today I cook for you as well - so I can't just toast some bread and have a cup of tea."

Erik found himself smiling.

"Sit, eat," Xavier continued. "According to Serena, I'm supposed to put some meat on your bones."

Raising an eyebrow, Erik didn't argue with him, his stomach telling him to just sit down and enjoy it.

"I'm not used to having people cooking me breakfast," Erik admitted.

"The head of the Brotherhood?" Xavier said, sitting down across from Erik after dumping the hot pan in the sink.

"You make it sound like it's a glorified royal title," Erik said with a laugh. He took his first bite, finding the eggs perfectly to his taste and the toast just right.

"I assumed it came with some privileges," Xavier admitted, eating his own breakfast, but eyeing Erik expectantly, obviously expecting him to go on.

Erik chewed his bite of bacon and shook his head. "Oh no, it was very often waiting around for information, sometimes hiding, sometimes running."

"So, glorified through the tinted glass of history," Xavier said with a nod.

"You look almost disappointed," Erik said, staring at him. He had to wonder what misinformation a couple of centuries could amass.

Xavier flushed and shook his head. "I grew up on stories of the Brotherhood, of you, of the Professor and his X-Men. Erik, although I know that the stories lack historical value on a lot of points, I can't help but draw on what little information I do have, fictional as well as historical."

Erik snorted, continued eating for another moment, then put his fork and knife down. "I'm well aware what history and time can do to the truth, how much gets lost in the past. But trust me when I say it was no bed of roses."

They ate in silence as Erik's memories floated to the surface of his mind. He remembered the days when the Brotherhood had drawn away from battle, planning, plotting, allowing their strength to grow and their numbers to increase - those days had been empowering but had caused him some restlessness. He had always worked best in the heat of the moment, but with opponents like the US government and anti-mutant groups, not to mention Charles and his X-Men, planning had been essential.

Of course those had been days to be cherished compared to the ones they had spent on the run. When their numbers had decreased with death sweeping through their ranks, taking more than his share of souls.

Erik could admit, at least to himself, that the few he had lost to Charles' cause were far to be preferred. At least they had lived on.

Erik thought of his soldiers and wondered what had happened to them all. Possibly he should simply look them up. Something he had so far avoided doing - almost as a coping mechanism, an urge to not know how and when they had died.

He looked up from his empty plate and met Xavier's eyes.

Xavier was watching him with something akin to yearning, which was quickly buried under his usual smile, gesturing to the plate. "Would you like more?"

Erik shook his head, memories still strong in his mind, his breakfast feeling like lead in his stomach. "I could do with more orange juice," he amended when Xavier moved to stand, his sunny disposition changing to a more neutral look. Almost as if he was occupied with his own thoughts and not quite... there.

It seemed the right thing to say, because a moment later the smile was back and Erik hadn't thought it would lift his own spirit as much as it did.

Erik put his plate by the sink and turned to find Xavier reading off a flexie, much like the one he had given Erik. The frown on his face drew Erik's attention. "Anything wrong?" he asked, keeping his voice light.

"There's been an incident in Arizona," Xavier said, reading as he relayed it to Erik. "A family of four have been found killed in their home, the place leveled to the ground."

"Mutants?" Erik asked before he could stop himself, and the look Xavier shot him annoyed him because he knew the chances of them not being mutants were small.

"Yes," Xavier replied, "and yes, you know very well that the chances of that were very high. A family of mainly kinetics."

"You're the one who said our kind was safe now," Erik argued. Simply arguing, he realized, because he still felt off-kilter with the world and he didn't think it was fair that Xavier expected him to get used to it all within such a short span of time. He had never belonged to a majority. Jew, Holocaust survivor and mutant.

Xavier looked as though he might have drawn the same conclusion as he shook his head sadly. "Mutant or human, Erik, you know as well as I do that we're all capable of good as well as evil deeds."

Erik grunted and took a sip of his juice. Xavier was right, of course, but old habits died hard.

For another moment, Xavier kept reading, than let out a sigh. "I can't say that I wasn't expecting the media to jump on the rumor of your resurrection once again, my friend, but at least that seems to be all there is to it, a rumor."

Erik watched him intently. He still wasn't sure how it could be as bad as he was suggesting it to be.

Xavier looked up, eyes softening. "You must be going stir crazy," he said softly, "I know I would be in your place."

Erik grinned. Xavier might not have his namesake's telepathic abilities, but apparently his empathy was more than enough. "I wouldn't mind a road trip of sorts, if you're offering."

Xavier nodded. "I think the longer we keep you away from the world, the harder it will be for you to adjust." He laughed mirthlessly. "Of course there's the risk of getting caught on camera, but if you can live with rumors of being the possible end to my life as a bachelor, it will probably be alright."

Erik didn't reply, but he didn't mind the thought half as much as Xavier might think. And if the public expected Xavier to shack up with another man... Erik swallowed hard and pushed away the thought.

"I've business in the city today - and I know Serena wants to do a check-up on your vitals, so I figure we'll go in, have a bit of sight-seeing and then make her happy by following her orders."

Erik finished his breakfast and they put their plates in what Xavier explained was a dishwashing machine. Well-fed, and Erik could hardly claim otherwise, they got ready to leave.

Once seated in the car, this time Erik was ready for the surge of energy running through his body. It didn't mean he was unaffected by it, but at least he could channel it through his body without too much trouble and without sporting an erection.

Even if the latter was bound to make Xavier uneasy and for some odd reason, much like his own Charles, Erik very much enjoyed Xavier off his game.

Erik let the energy hum through his body while he lost himself in thought. Xavier was uncharacteristically quiet and Erik found himself considering the moments he had caught Xavier's interest in him, only to then be met with either indifference or merely friendly concern.

Maybe he was simply going crazy and his thoughts were colored by his past attraction to Charles, whom he had carried a torch for all those years apart. Of course he was still influenced by that. He had never been good at letting go if he'd wanted something. Hell, he'd dedicated his life to getting to Schmidt and in the process gained and lost Charles.

He allowed himself a quick look at Xavier, who was focusing on his flexie while the car drove itself. The man really did look so much like Charles, even if - through the last couple of days especially, where he'd spent time with him - Erik could spot all those little differences, not only in appearance, but in personality as well.

And he'd be lying if he claimed he didn't like the man. He might've fought it the first couple of days merely because Xavier was a constant reminder of what he'd done, what he'd had, what he'd lost. What they'd both done wrong. Of course, this Xavier was too damned likable to turn away, even if he almost missed the cocky attitude that Charles had displayed.

There was something to be said for the shyer, softer version that Erik wondered if he might eventually like him well enough to...

Erik turned away and stared out the windshield, watching the city expanding around them. He was still adapting, was still getting used to this time - if he started mixing in emotions and want, he would just be making things harder for himself.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Xavier said, drawing Erik from his contemplations.

Erik was at a loss. He could tell the kid the truth and watch him blush or... "Nothing specific," he finally said, wondering why he was being this courteous. "Just woolgathering."

"Mmm," Xavier replied, inputting information into the car's computer. "Serena wants to know if we can come by her first before sight-seeing," he said, "I mean, if you don't mind," he added, shooting Erik a questioning look.

Erik waved him off. "Sure," he replied. This was another area where Xavier differed from Charles. He deferred to Erik, let him make a choice. Erik was well aware that half of the time when Charles had made decisions on _their_ behalf, he'd already gleaned a go-ahead mentally from Erik, but it was a nice change to be _asked_.

He looked up again as the car pulled into the car park underneath the same building that he'd first woken up in. Once again he caught Xavier turning his head away, as if caught staring. He wasn't going to address it, he realized with surprise. He wasn't going to push like he'd normally have done - his patience with other people rarely great enough to allow for... beating around the bush.

Of course, giving Xavier the time he seemed to need for whatever he wanted to say to Erik, would give Erik the time he needed to... that he needed to figure himself out, what to do with himself and, if he was reading Xavier right, possibly it would allow him to have an answer when the question was finally asked.

"Earth to Erik," Xavier said, mirth coloring his voice. "You ready to go up?"

Erik looked up and realized that the car had come to a stop and Xavier had already exited it, waiting for Erik to follow suit. He hadn't even noticed the car going off the Grid, he'd been that deeply in thought.

Silently laughing at himself, Erik got out of the car and tucked his shirt and jacket down before shutting the door. He really should be too old for such doubts. Of course, he could blame some of his scrambled brain on the cryo-sleep and the aftereffects.

The check-up was... surprisingly swift. McCoy only wanted the basic blood work as well as his vitals and she shooed them out shortly after, giving him a clean bill of health.

Erik wasn't terribly surprised. He felt better than he had in ages, his body responding to his demands and with his stamina back, his control over his powers was back as well. He'd even needled her into agreeing he could have a cup of coffee per day, a negotiation process that had Xavier laughing so hard tears had sprung in his eyes and it had lifted Erik's spirits even more.

With all that over and done with, he followed Xavier, who led him out the main doors of the building and out into the busy streets of a New York Erik barely recognized. Some of his unease at this must have shown, because Xavier kept close and asked quietly if he was alright.

"Yeah, I guess I just thought there'd be some things I'd recognize," he admitted, staring the modern buildings, clean streets and busy people. Nothing was familiar.

"Ah," Xavier said, steering him out of the way of the worst of the crowd. "The city was levelled to the ground during the war with the Kree. Most of it had to be rebuilt."

Erik took a deep breath. He was just as surprised at the fact that all around him were people who sported visible mutations, and no one so much at blinked at it. Xavier _had_ told him about this, but ...seeing _was_ believing. He was about to say as much to Xavier when the headlines of an electronic newspaper caught his eye.

**_Are the rumors true? Has Magneto returned? And if he has, why? Is there a threat the government is keeping from you?_ **

Erik stared at it, gobsmacked. At the same time, he caught several conversations around him, people speaking of him, or rather, of Magneto.

_"Do you think it means we're facing another war?"_

_"Urban legend, if you ask me...."_

_"...could be hot to meet such an iconic man."_

_"...propaganda, I'm telling you, the government trying to...."_

_"...do you think there'd be room for me in his army..."_

_"...it's just a gossip rag, you know they'll print anything that sells - same story was posted ten years ago, and that was a hoax too..._

Erik didn't realize he was hyperventilating until he felt a hand in the small of his back and Xavier's voice warm and low in his ear. "Relax, Erik, please, _breathe_."

Drawing in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before expelling it, Erik let himself be guided off to the side, to a small cafe. Xavier dragged him through the door and sat him down at a table. There were a few other people around, but no one seemed to be paying them any heed.

At least no one seemed to know what he looked like. Thank god for small mercies. He was beginning to understand Xavier's worries.

Xavier put a glass of water down in front of him and sat on the other chair. "Drink, take a moment to relax."

Erik made a face at him. "You'd think something like that wouldn't phase me," he admitted. "I mean, I was the leader of..."

Xavier shook his head. "Don't say it out loud. So far, no one knows what you look like, so possibly we can buy you a little more time before that happens. Maybe we should have exposed you to a smaller group first," Xavier mused. "Rhaven offered the other day to bring some of our friends by, to introduce you to them. They are all capable of keeping a secret, and I'm beginning to think her suggestion was more sound than this."

Erik snorted. "If you'd offered, I'd have told you I could handle whatever you threw at me, that I could handle this, but it _was_ a bit of a surprise to stand in the middle of the street, hearing people talking about me as if I were some kind of...."

"Fictional or non-corporeal figure?" Xavier mused, "I can see how you'd feel that way about it."

Maybe Xavier was onto something about letting him see other people in smaller groups first. To bolster him. He was beginning to understand what Xavier had meant when he'd said that Erik was worshipped as a historical figure, a symbol of the battle that had been all too real to him in his own day.

No, not him, not Erik. Not really. _Magneto_ had been worshipped, been the figurehead of the fight for mutant rights. In many ways more than Erik had aimed for when he'd been alive in his own time. Back then he would have preferred simply removing the threat, removing the humans. Even from beyond the grave, it had turned out that Charles had been right. Apparently mutants had simply outlived them instead, and still were, according to Xavier. While he'd been contemplating this, Xavier had ordered them both coffee and Erik couldn't help but give a small nod as thank you. He had the feeling that even if McCoy hadn't given him the green light on it, Xavier would still have done this.

"What war were they even talking about?" Erik finally asked, because it had seemed as though they thought some threat was coming. And Xavier had told him nothing that pointed in that direction.

Xavier smiled at him. "There is no war, current or coming. However, somewhere along the way, the legend that you'd rise from your unknown grave when we most needed you came into being."

Staring at him, Erik slowly shook his head. "I'm no King Arthur. How the hell did I go from a freedom fighter to this insanity?"

Xavier flushed lightly and Erik was hit once again by how attractive it made him look. It was so much of a tell when he was uncomfortable in a situation.

"I think possibly the Professor was to blame for your rise to fame," Xavier admitted, "but I really think that's a conversation best left for private. While no one knows what you look like, I'm a familiar face of a familiar bloodline and it won't be long before people start talking and theorizing."

Erik took a sip of the coffee, enjoying it, though not as much as he would have had if he'd been spared the surprises of a few minutes earlier. He looked outside at the busy street. It was strange, the way those words had affected him. These people didn't seem to have anything to rise up against, yet they talked as if a battle against some enemy was their idea of romance and adventure.

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

  


**_Information is needed. Searching for pattern... Pattern structure: Names and locations connected to Specimen 039._**

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

Early evening, after they had returned from the city, Erik sat down to finally dig into what the history books said about him, and what the rest of the world seemed to think, because the moment he stepped outside of the factual books (even if the facts were clearly _wrong_ more often than not) he was surprised by what he found.

Well, part horrified and part amused, really.

In the earliest texts he could find, he was definitely depicted for what he'd been. Head of the Brotherhood, seen as a savior by some, as a terrorist by others. Hope to some and despair to others. It was nothing he hadn't expected, nothing he hadn't aimed for.

Then came a period from somewhere between his disappearance and the mid-1980s. He read about the government facility that had been taken down as a joint operation between the X-Men and the Avengers. No mention of himself there.

Erik back-tracked, following one piece of information to the next, trying not to get lost in it all. He found a side note on something regarding the more fictional texts about himself. Curious, he followed it and wasn't sure if he should laugh or feel shocked when he found that there'd been an animated tv show about him fifteen years prior, that there had been more than a handful of movies made as well as numerous 'authentic' biographies written.

Having read excerpts of these biographies, Erik wondered where they had got half those hairbrained ideas from. There were ...novels written as well, at least pitched at being purely fictional, though Erik wasn't sure how that helped. They seemed to be aimed at women with a ridiculous amount of romance in them.

Then of course, he was stupid enough to follow that line of information a little too far, and found the unsanctioned amateur writing based on those books and he quickly shut that search down, feeling his face flush. While he himself might have entertained ideas of a more physical relationship with Charles, he would never in a million years have been _that_ creative.

Erik found his way back to the original search he had done and found that, somewhere in the '80s, his name had returned to the public's attention. And from what he could tell, Xavier might have been right. It did seem as though Charles had been the one to drag his name out in public again. All through the '80s Charles would mention his name in his speeches, would mention that while they had been at odds when it came to ideals, they had both had the well-being of mutants on their mind.

It irked him a bit that Charles had found use in his name in this way, though he could tell that at least Charles had been fairly true to his views. However, he could tell there was something missing because, even with the mentions, his name should have never have gained the importance it apparently had. He made a note to ask Xavier about that, because even the journals didn't quite seem to cover it.

He skimmed on to read about Charles's great speech in front of the UN, just prior to the liberation of the island state of Genosha. He was surprised to learn that several powered individuals, not just mutants, had fought side by side to bring down a corrupt government that had built its country's riches on the backs of mutants and genetically manipulated humans.

He even found evidence that former Brotherhood members had been part of this operation. He saw the work of Azazel in there, saw Mystique's name as well. Even Frost seemed to have had a hand in some of it - all alongside Charles and his group.

And Erik's own children.

It still stung, knowing that he'd had them, that he had _met_ them, but hadn't known who they were to him at the time.

Erik read on and stopped in his tracks, re-read. One of the texts on the Genoshan war spoke of Charles losing his ability to walk in an accident, a wall halfway collapsing on him.

Again? How could he have lost his ability to walk _again_?

Erik searched back and forth in the digital documents, finally coming across a notice in Charles' journals, about a gift from the Shi'ar. About how he'd had a short romance with their leader, Lilandra and how his aid in the capture of Deathbird had earned him a new body, a fully functioning, cloned copy of his original one.

Erik drew in a deep breath and let it stutter out again. It seemed Charles had been granted a few years back on his feet, to only have it taken away again.

However, when he watched the speeches, his throat constricted. There was his Charles, in the wheelchair, but still towering over everyone by his sheer presence. He watched the footage from the one year anniversary of the liberation of Genosha, from the official event of the first democratic election.

He hadn't checked; he should have. Erik knew this, but he had skirted even looking up the year of Charles death.

As it was, the bullet that tore through Charles' neck startled him as much as it startled the thousands of people in the crowd beneath the tribune.

Erik stared in silent horror as Charles' body jerked with the impact of another two shots fired in rapid succession, both hitting him in the chest. Closing his eyes didn't help. The scene replayed over and over again in his mind. Blood spattering everywhere. Messy. Torn skin and flesh, the surprised widening of Charles' blue eyes before they lost the last flicker of light.

"Oh, Erik."

Arms came around his shoulders and Erik leaned into the warm body.

"I thought you'd already looked that up," Xavier said, shutting off the video, silence filling the room, the screams echoing only inside Erik's head.

"I guess I didn't really want to know how he died," Erik admitted with a sigh. He didn't want to open his eyes, didn't want to see this face that was so close to Charles'. "I guess if I didn't know, I could tell myself that he'd died of old age, happy in the knowledge that he'd been right and I'd been wrong."

Xavier didn't say anything, just held him, gently, sitting on the couch with him.

Erik finally drew back, feeling a little more in control. It had been stupid of him to not look up Charles' death. He was bound to have found out eventually anyway. While Charles had been right and evolution had eventually won their battle for them, Erik had been right about the hatred for the unknown and it had eventually been hatred of mutants that had gotten Charles killed.

Victory, knowing that he'd been right after all, tasted like dust. What was it worth knowing that his cynical ideals had been right when at this point he wanted nothing more than to be _wrong_?

"I was just looking for a reason for him to be speaking of me in such a manner," Erik tried to explain, his throat dry as the desert, "for him to speak my name with such reverence."

Xavier let go of him and stood, holding out a hand, waiting for Erik to take it. He pulled him to his feet and let go, gesturing for Erik to follow him. "I think I can shed a little light on that, maybe."

Curiously, Erik followed him, down through a hallway to a dead end. However, much to his surprise, Xavier reached out and pressed a panel and a door swung open.

"What can I say, when my family rebuilt this place, they did it complete with the original secret passages and rooms," Xavier admitted with a small laugh.

Behind the panel was a narrow, winding staircase. It led down for about two stories, then ended in an underground room that had been set up as a library. The walls were lined with tightly sealed glass cases, each one sporting shelves filled with books.

"The family's always had an extensive collection," Xavier explained as he switched on the light, a softly toned illumination. "It's survived through wars, although some of it has been lost over the years. I've maintained it down here for the sake of preservation."

Erik didn't interrupt, simply waited for Xavier to pull out a small box of cotton gloves, offering Erik a pair, before donning his own.

"The journals you read were the published ones," Xavier carried on, "the family had them vetted for public consumption." At this he snorted derisively. "They seemed to think that some of the passages were rambling, as well as too private to share. And having read them, I'd have to agree about some of them not being fit for sharing - though I don't think the Professor ever meant for anyone to read them."

"Too private?" Erik had to ask. Because now he was seriously curious about this.

"He does go into detail about his relationship with Lilandra," Xavier said with a cough, and Erik didn't have to see his face to know the thought had brought color to his cheeks.

Erik felt a pang at this. He wasn't about to torture himself with reading about Charles' conquests.

As if Xavier had heard him, he shook his head and gently lifted out two volumes, both leatherbound. "However, these are about you. Or rather, it seems that the Professor held entire conversations with you in the journals, having you argue one side and himself the other."

Erik wondered if Charles had been going slightly mad, but he really did want to read the unrevised version.

Xavier put the books on the old oak table in the middle of the room. "Go ahead, but don't stay down here all night - there's nothing but dust and ghosts here - not a healthy environment for anyone."

Erik didn't answer right away. Just stared at the books.

Xavier sighed and turned to go back up the stairs.

"Thank you," Erik finally managed to get out.

"Don't thank me till you've read it," Xavier said with a small smile before leaving.

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

_July 9th, 2153. Personal entry. CFN-X_

_I ache for him. I know I've used the term before, when I catch someone's emotions, when they're at their lowest. It's the curse of an empath - only borne because of the elation when I feel their joy outshines the pain._

_But today, watching him looking at those journals like they were his salvation, as well as his curse and cross to bear... I had to leave him to it. I couldn't watch him ripping open old wounds. I know what's in those journals - I've read them often enough to know them almost word by word._

_I used to find the idea of their relationship romantic. I was a fool. The Professor needed the white king to his own black, and Erik wanted nothing but the Professor himself._

_It was never a simple romance._

_It was a tragedy._

_I know he doesn't like the mental contact of a telepath - I've gathered as much from the Professor's journals as well - but I'll keep my senses open tonight, just in case. If he needs me._

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

Erik sat back - his breath shuddering out, then he heaved it back in. Held it for a moment before letting it out slowly.

"Were you going mad, my friend?" Erik asked, staring into the shadows pooling at the corners of the room, between the shelves. "And maybe I am too? For speaking to you right now."

He closed the journal carefully, shutting his eyes. "Your grand-kid was right. You had entire conversations with me, though I couldn't have answered, because I'd disappeared. Did you think you were speaking to a ghost? You didn't, did you?"

Erik rested a hand on the journal. "You never really gave up hoping that I was still alive. You even used your Cerebro to look for me." He took off the gloves and dropped them next to the journal.

Metal moved down the stairs and Erik sat back in his chair.

"For what it's worth, I think he loved you too. Even if it wasn't the way you wanted him to," Xavier said quietly.

"If we'd seen things eye to eye, I would have settled for friendship," Erik ground out, meaning it. He didn't even ask how Xavier had figured out how he'd felt about Charles. It was obvious from the journals that Charles had suspected as much.

"He eventually came to see things your way," Xavier said, stepping down into the room, the low lighting casting his face in shadows, making him look older than he was.

"Did he?" Erik asked, meeting Xavier's eyes. It was a rhetorical question.

"As much as he ever could - he was the one who pulled the strings in the liberation of Genosha. He was the one who made sure that everyone worked together. The Avengers, the X-Men, the Brotherhood, the super-powered individuals that held no group allegiance."

"Is that why he was killed?" Erik asked, knowing the answer before Xavier replied.

Xavier nodded. "He understood your side of it, which was how the Brotherhood came to side with him, he appealed to the righteousness of Captain America and got the Avengers along - and Hank McCoy was a member of the Avengers at the time, so that was a pretty easy task as it was."

"He became a dangerous man, an influential telepath," Erik extrapolated. Charles had become what they _needed_.

Xavier finally moved, came to stand in front of him. "Not only that, he was a gifted orator, and I don't even think it had much to do with his telepathy. After he began balancing his own views with yours, or what he perceived as yours, he held any crowd in the palm of his hand."

"The perfect balance," Erik said, closing his eyes again. "We were both too stubborn back then to make it work. It took my 'death' to move things along."

Xavier moved and, a moment later, he pulled Erik close.

Much to Erik's own surprise, he allowed it. Even leaned into his heat, realizing just how chill the air was.

"It was bound to happen eventually," Xavier said. "It wasn't your fault he got killed."

Erik closed his hand into a fist, realizing he was holding onto the back of Xavier's shirt.

"If I'd been there," he started, the scenario unfolding in his mind.

"You were frozen and incapable of intervening," Xavier said quietly.

"If he hadn't put himself in the public eye like that...," Erik argued, grasping at straws, knowing the cause would have died in its infancy if not for people willing to sacrifice themselves for the... greater good.

"It was who he was, you know that," Xavier said, pulling back a little and tilting Erik's head up. "Don't get maudlin and think you could have single-handedly saved the day, saved _him_."

"Wouldn't you blame me too?" Erik asked, feeling raw.

"Of course not," Xavier said, holding his gaze, but letting go of Erik's chin. "And he wouldn't have either."

Erik stared up at him, unable to look away, and if asked afterwards, he wouldn't be able to say who moved first - but they both leaned in and a moment later Erik held on even tighter, mouth pressed against Xavier's, their breaths mingling, the heat of lips against his almost unbearable.

Xavier was the first to pull back, leaning his forehead against Erik's.

Erik reached up and put two fingers against Xavier's lips. He could almost feel Xavier retreating before he even made to move away. Erik dug his fingers into his back and held him in place. For a moment, he just breathed, his fingers caught between their mouths, damp and hot. "Don't..." he tried.

Xavier drew in his breath, hard.

"It's not a no, it's not..." Erik forced out, his chest feeling as if steel bands encased it, squeezing the air from his lungs. "This is just not the right time."

The restrictive feeling eased a little, and Erik slid his finger along Xavier's lips, caressing his cheek, his temple, reveling in the softness of his hair.

"I'll give you all the time in the world," Xavier whispered. "Happily."

"Liar," Erik said with a small laugh, allowing Xavier to take a step back.

"No, I mean it," Xavier said, straightening his shirt. "Rushing in would be a foolish thing to do."

Erik stared at him. He wanted to dig, wanted to know what made all of this too early for Xavier. But if he pushed, he'd have to push himself too. Maybe Xavier was simply holding back because Erik wasn't ready?

Maybe they were both better off taking the time necessary. Erik licked his lips, watching Xavier swallow hard.

"I think we should go to bed," Xavier said, face obviously flushed. "I mean..."

Erik laughed, this time feeling a little lighter. "I know what you mean, and you're right. We need sleep and the ghosts need rest."

Xavier nodded and turned to the stairs, heading up, letting Erik put the journals away before following.

It took Erik a moment to do so, as he was busy staring after Xavier. There was no doubt about him being attractive, and Erik most certainly wasn't dead or oblivious.

The journals safely back in their tomb, Erik followed him upstairs.

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

_July 10th, 2153 (0200). Personal entry. CFN-X_

_I've given up on sleep at the moment. For once it's not an equation that's keeping me up, but going over and over in my head what happened tonight._

_I refuse to simply write that he kissed me... let me kiss him. I don't think either of us know who moved first._

_This means I no longer have to worry about hiding where I look, I think. I actually think he's known all along. I'm lying here, staring up at the ceiling, and I keep grinning widely like an idiot._

_I can wait. I know Rhaven will tease me mercilessly if she ever learns. But I_ can _wait._

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

  


**_Possible connection: North-West. Investigate, threat assess, remove threat._**

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

The next morning, Erik half expected the awkwardness in the kitchen, but instead he found a smiling Xavier almost done with breakfast as Erik returned from his morning run.

"Go shower," Xavier told him, and this time his gaze lingered more openly on Erik.

Erik realized that part of the shyness hadn't been that Xavier wasn't interested, but that he hadn't been sure about it being reciprocated. Erik mulled this over as he returned to his room to shower.

It wasn't an unfamiliar state, to wonder if your advances would be welcomed. Not that he'd had much time for such things during his time as Magneto, but he still remembered chess nights with Charles, before Cuba. When he'd still occasionally, in the dead of night, or after a glass of scotch, allowed himself to think about the curve of Charles' lips, the angle of a hip, what could happen if he made his move.

Not that he ever had.

And knowing what he did now, he had to settle for having done the right thing. At least this way he had lived with the what-if - the possibility that if he _had_ made his move, Charles might've said yes.

Now he knew how unlikely it would have been, and letting go wasn't something he could do overnight, but at least he had something to work towards. _Someone_ to aim for.

He made sure to not linger in the shower. Although he knew he could have easily coaxed pleasure from his body, he was barely tempted.

Returning to the kitchen afterwards, he was met with another big breakfast and Xavier reading the news. Judging from the frown on his forehead, it couldn't be pleasant.

"Bad news again?" Erik asked as he poured himself the one cup of coffee he was allowed and sat down to eat his eggs.

"Yeah, this time it's in Idaho," Xavier replied. "There's something off about it, but I can't say it's more than a hunch.

"Premonition?" Erik asked.

"I wish," Xavier said with a grin. "No, my abilities are limited to empathy and telekinesis barely strong enough to budge a piece of paper."

Erik raised an eyebrow. He had only seen Xavier use his telekinesis once, but surely with the right kind of training... Erik felt the pang the thought brought to him. So very Charles, wasn't it?

"It's nothing much compared to my ancestors," Xavier said, rubbing the back of his head, cheeks flushed again.

Before Erik could dig into that, Xavier sat down opposite him and started in on his own breakfast.

"By the way, what we talked about yesterday?" Xavier said, swallowing a bite of his food. "Of getting you used to people around us by using a small group? Rhaven suggested us meeting with her and a few friends of ours in the office. It's the same building that you stayed in when you first woke up."

Erik nodded. While he wasn't sure it would put him at ease, he knew that he couldn't keep hiding. Hell, he refused to hide. It wasn't his style.

Something caught Erik's attention outside the window of the kitchen, but it was too small to really register with him at first.

The second time he felt it, he frowned. "Do you have anything with metal floating around the grounds?" Erik asked, feeling as if an annoying fly was buzzing just behind him, out of reach.

Xavier shot him a searching look. "Not that I know of," he replied.

"I mean, you have technology here that I can't even guess the purpose of, so I thought maybe you had something like that," Erik continued, trying to get a grasp on it as he got up to look out the kitchen window.

Xavier stepped over to his side, peering out. "I don't see anything - how close?" He put his hand on Erik's arm to steady himself as he leaned forward.

A flash of light went off and Erik felt blinded, reacting instinctively by putting a protective arm around Xavier and lashing out at the humming metal sphere outside the window.

"Oh, damn it," Xavier cursed as the flash went off a second time, just before Erik tore it apart.

"What the hell was that?" Erik asked, blinking to get rid of the blue flashes obstructing his eyesight.

Pap-cams," Xavier replied, as if that explained anything.

Erik looked at him, realizing he was still holding the man against him. Reluctantly he let go, realizing that Xavier didn't seem worried about their safety. However he seemed to be annoyed with... whatever that had been.

"Pap-cams are used to take pictures of people where the media photographers can't go on their own. It's easier, and safer," Xavier explained with a sigh.

"It was taking pictures?" Erik asked, not sure why he was so surprised by now.

"Yes, and if you were fast enough, it didn't transmit the pictures before you ripped it apart. However, it means they'll wonder what happened and send a new one." Xavier sighed. "Who knows what insane theories they'll come up with? You, here with me, combined with the Cerebro incident at the museum and the abandoned military facility?" He snorted. "Maybe the end of the world - we're due another one according to some."

"I can't understand why it would be allowed for them to come here, to take pictures," Erik argued, letting his power swirl outward, trying to find anything resembling what he'd just taken down. At least nothing else came up.

"Oh, that's the reason for the pap-cams," Xavier said with a snort as he watched the sky outside for cameras as well. "A person would have set off the alarms, but the cams are constantly changing their frequencies to avoid detection."

Erik growled. He was not going to simply sit idly by while being spied upon.

"It was just a matter of time, my friend," Xavier told him with a shake of the head. "Though you may have bought us a little time if it didn't manage to send the pictures before you destroyed it."

"With these... pap-cams around, is it a good idea to go into the city tonight?" Erik asked.

"The office has better security than I have here. I had it built to be a home away from home and, strictly speaking, most days I spend more time there than I do here," Xavier admitted.

Erik stared outside, but he didn't feel anything that hinted at another of those cameras. "What are we going to do when they do figure out I'm here?"

Xavier watched him for a moment. "We tell them the truth," he said quietly.

"That I'm a frozen relic from another time?" Erik asked acidly. And to think his morning had started so well. He hadn't forgotten how people had talked about him in the city and that was without them knowing he could hear them.

"No, that you're a man who has survived incredible hardship and deserves to be left alone - though I'm well aware that we might not get that."

"I guess it's too much to hope that they won't figure out who I am," Erik said with a sigh.

"Only time will tell - I don't want to go public if we don't have to, if it all dies out eventually," Xavier admitted. "It's more than possible that the pap-cam was aimed at me because I've been seen in the city with you - and I don't go out much these days, so any connection they can drag me into they will."

"Why?" Erik asked surprised.

"I'm a well known face - of a well known family," Xavier explained with a small laugh. "They do like to dig up celebrity smut on me."

Erik just made a face. There were some things he seriously didn't like about this time and place.

"What are your plans for the day?" Xavier asked, as he poured another cup of coffee for himself.

Erik shrugged. "More reading, I think," he said. There was still so much to learn.

"I've got some computer simulations to run," Xavier said with a smile, "but we'll get ready around five and then head into the city."

Erik nodded. What else could he do but follow along? At least Xavier was giving him time and space to adjust.

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

Erik stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the two figures at the door. He hadn't let them in, and neither had Xavier, because he was still somewhere upstairs. His hackles rose as he took in their simple, black uniforms with the red line around the collar.

"Mr. Lehnsherr, I presume," the man said, his face calm and emotionless. The woman next to him didn't say anything, but Erik didn't think she was merely there to look pretty.

They both reeked of government agency, although neither was openly carrying any weapons. Of course, if most people these days were mutants, there was a pretty good chance that they _were_ weapons.

"Who's asking?" Erik replied, reaching out to for feel any little pieces of metal in the house. The two people across from him had nothing on them and he realized it was probably on purpose.

"I'm Agent Smith, this is Agent White - we work for SHIELD, Mr. Lehnsherr. I'm not sure that Mr. Xavier has let you know, but we sent a message the other day, requesting your visit at our New York office today."

Erik raised an eyebrow. No, Xavier hadn't mentioned that. And Agents Smith and White? Yeah, right.

"We would, of course, prefer it if you came with us willingly," Smith continued.

"Would you, now?" Erik said pleasantly. There was no way he was going anywhere with these two, willingly or otherwise.

"Mr. Lehnsherr," Agent White said, "we're not going to take you in against your will, but we must insist -"

"I thought I had made it clear that Mr. Lehnsherr would come to you when he was ready and _if_ he wanted to. And no," Xavier said, voice drifting down from the landing above, "I hadn't shared this with him, opting to allow him to acclimatize and acquaint himself with our time period before letting you anywhere near him."

Erik looked up and was stunned to find Xavier completely changed. Where he'd seemed soft and pliable to Erik, he now carried himself like his spine was steel and control came easily, expecting to have his orders followed. It was possibly both the hottest and scariest thing Erik had ever witnessed. If Xavier could put up a front of being soft and cuddly, what could he be hiding underneath?

"Mr. Xavier," Agent Smith cut in, "we do appreciate your help, past and future, but your family name will not grant you unlimited immunity."

Xavier snorted and slowly walked halfway down the stairs, before stopping again. "I do not expect you to respect me because of my family's name, but I do expect you to listen to reason when it's slapping you in the face."

"The attacks, as I'm sure you've heard," the agent bulldozed on, "originated near to where you found Mr. Lehnsherr."

"And that could be coincidence," Xavier said, "All I'm asking is that you give Mr. Lehnsherr here a little more time - he's never been fond of government agencies, which is understandable, and I'm sure he'll willingly answer your questions when he's ready"

Agent White cleared her throat, "Mr. Xavier, if there is a threat to Earth's security, and Mr. Lehnsherr has any knowledge that might aid us, I strongly suggest you put your petty possessiveness aside and do what's best for everyone."

Xavier stayed where he was, leaning against the bannister, face in shadow, but something sent a chill down Erik's spine.

"Was that a threat, Agent?" he asked sweetly.

Erik became aware that all of the metal in his vicinity was now humming and for a moment he considered clamping down on it, then decided against it. As much as he and Xavier were going to have a heart to heart once these two were gone, he was not about to let them try to bully either of them into something they didn't want. And if they thought Erik was gullible enough to get into a car with them without asking questions himself...

Agent Smith held up a hand, stalling, though there was no fear in his eyes. "Please, we do not want an incident, but we would like to know if Mr. Lehnsherr knows anything about the attacks. Apparently every piece of metal in the houses was ripped out of the walls and had been used to skewer the poor people living there."

Erik shrugged, but kept his hold on all the metal. "I've had no opportunity to do any such thing," he told them coldly. "And I can't possibly be the only mutant capable of manipulating metal."

Smith nodded slowly.

Erik was beginning to feel even more on edge and his calm seemed to be slipping from him. He really didn't want to go with these people. The metal in the next room rattled and Erik clamped down on it hard. Why the hell was he having such trouble controlling what normally came easily to him?

"We had hoped that you might know of something at the base, from before you were put into cryo-stasis, that might be this powerful," Smith said.

Shaking his head, Erik took a deep breath. "I didn't see much more than human scientists and soldiers, Agent Smith."

"I would ask you if you searched the facility well enough - there were many levels below the one we found Erik in. But I know how thorough you are and I'm sure there was nothing in the databases that indicated anything that could have done what you're thinking of, Agent," Xavier said, "and we handed the databases over to you when we retrieved the cryo chambers."

There was a moment of silence.

"All of them, I can assure you," Xavier added. For a few long moments, they all stared at each other and Xavier sighed deeply, his posture changing enough that Erik had to wonder if the whole steely resolve was a front and something he had to fight to keep up. "As Mr. Lehnsherr has already told you, he was in no shape to do what you are implying, and he's been either at our facility or here the whole time. In the company of either Dr. McCoy or myself."

The agent gave him a nod after some consideration, then did Erik the same courtesy. "So be it, but we should still like to see you, Mr. Lehnsherr, at some point in the near future." The agents turned to leave. "A simple debriefing, I can assure you, nothing suspect about it."

The two agents left and the door had hardly closed behind them before Erik turned to Xavier, mouth open to ask what the hell that had been all about, why Xavier was suddenly acting like a completely different man.

However, Erik's words died before he could say them, as he watched Xavier sway and stumble the last few steps down to the ground level. He moved quickly to his side, half catching him.

"Not doing that again anytime soon," Xavier moaned, burying his face in Erik's shoulder, hanging on for dear life.

"What...?" Erik tried to ask, but he'd lost his thread, his long line of questions unraveling.

"Help me to the kitchen, put the kettle on and I'll try to explain," Xavier said quietly.

Erik argued with himself for a moment, whether or not to follow the request, but another look at Xavier's face told him well enough that the other man was no threat for the time being.

Clinging to his worries, his wariness, Erik poured water in the kettle and started it up, glad that while technology had changed, some things were still fairly easy to figure out, like boiling water.

"Second cupboard, top shelf," Xavier said quietly from his spot at the table where Erik had dropped him into a seat. "There's a metal box of tea - green box," he added.

Erik set about making the tea, all the while constantly aware of where Xavier was. Always with the nagging feeling that without his helmet he was feeling exposed - for the first time since he'd followed Xavier to the mansion. The water boiled and Erik poured it over the tea bag, setting the mug down in front of Xavier as he took his own seat on the other side of the table, watching the steam rise from the tea rather than look into Xavier's eyes.

"Do you know, in fairy tales," Xavier began, staring into the mug as if it held the answer to all the questions in the universe, "elves were said to be able to cast a sort of... charm or glamour that enabled them to hide how they really looked - it sometimes allowed them to persuade people that reality wasn't what it really was?"

Erik raised an eyebrow. "What does that have to do with you?" he asked, "Are you saying you have elf blood running in your veins as well as Shi'ar?" He added the last as a joke, but it didn't sound any more convincing to his own ears than it must have to Xavier.

Xavier merely laughed, sounding so terribly tired. "No, nothing like that. However, my empathy allows me to do something similar. I can't control their minds or what they see completely, but if I focus enough, I can make someone see me in a way that I'm really not. And I can persuade them to believe me, if they're even slightly inclined to do so."

Erik found this more than a little worrying. To him, Xavier had come across as a harmless man, getting in where Erik probably shouldn't have let him. If he could do this... could make people trust him...

"If SHIELD ever decides that I'm too much of a nuisance to them, and decide to get rid of me, I'm not strong enough to do anything about it - it's mere appearance and suggestion and it takes a lot out of me," Xavier explained. He looked up, meeting Erik's eyes. "It's not something I do unless I have to and no, I haven't done it to you. The most I've ...used my powers on you, it's been to glean your mood and most of that is no more than what you can learn to read from body language."

Erik watched him quietly then nodded slowly. If this was how much it took for Xavier affect perception, he was pretty sure that he'd have noticed. He had to trust his senses in this. "What are the odds of them getting rid of you?" Erik asked, all the while aware that of all the metal in the room.

"Oh, no," Xavier said, eyes widening as he reached across the table and touched the tips of his fingers to the back of Erik's hand. "I seriously doubt that will ever happen - but I prefer to deal with them through the vid-network instead of face to face. I may not be able to manipulate their conviction but I can at least fake a lot with image and sound filters," he admitted. "SHIELD deals with Earth defense and they have to look at the bigger picture - doesn't mean I always agree with the hows and whys, though."

Erik frowned. "Why would they think I knew anything about the attacks?" he asked.

"They did say that metal had been involved, but who knows?" Xavier admitted. "But if they're grasping at straws, that's worrying. Because if SHIELD doesn't know what's going on, then I fear no one does and the lack of knowledge is always dangerous." He pulled his hand back.

Erik st in silence for a moment, staring at Xavier's hands curled around the mug, as if he was drawing what warmth he could from the heated porcelain.

"Please believe me when I say that I would have told you about them - once you'd digested all the other stuff you were reading," Xavier said quietly. "I can understand why you don't trust government agencies, and this is a planet-wide institution."

Erik nodded slowly. He wondered if it should be worrying him that he was willing to accept this hypocrisy from Xavier. In one breath he'd said it was dangerous to lack knowledge and in the next he'd made the choice to not share this with Erik up front. Possibly Erik could see why, but still...

Apparently Xavier had come to the same conclusion, his face, if possible, paling even more. "Oh, no, I just said that lack of knowledge..."

This time Erik reached out and put his hand on Xavier's wrist, holding his hand still. "I know why you did it, but please, if there's more than this, I should like to know right away."

Xavier flushed deeply, looking a little guilty. "No, that was it."

Erik chose to believe him, much to his own surprise.

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

_July 10th, 2153. Personal entry. CFN-X_

_That was close._

_I could feel his mistrust building but I wasn't sure how to counter it. And my head was busy pounding like the beat in a nightclub on a Friday night._

_I think I managed to convince him. However, I got the feeling that his trust is a fragile thing and for all my best intentions, I should try to share and be as honest as I can around him._

_I can't figure out if I should tell him about the psychic echo. It's... gone now, I think. So maybe I should keep that to myself. I can't even be sure what it was or if my mind might have been playing tricks on me._

_To think that I thought I could blame my... infatuation on it. Stupid idea, really. My interest in him has only grown in the short time I've known him. Purified from my teenage hero worship to genuine attraction. I'm not used to feeling it this strongly but I'd be lying if I claimed not to like it. And I want to find out if we can have more._

_At least I don't have to hide my interest anymore. As long as I take care not to damage the trust he has in me, maybe I can let myself have this._

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

  


**_Specimen 039 located. Location: New York. Proceed with extreme measures. Objective: Neutralize Specimen 039._**

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

Erik put the flexie away, rubbing his eyes. It was nearly five and he might as well get ready for their dinner in the city. He had decided that the research of the day wouldn't be personal, to him or to Xavier. So he'd started by reading up on SHIELD, not managing to assuage his worries all that much, but still, it was information. The organization did seem to stand through history as a positive thing. Although Erik was very well aware that geopolitical history could and would be re-written by the victors.

On a whim, he looked up the key points of history that Xavier had compiled for him. He was surprised to learn that most of Europe had become one large country after the war with the Kree. West and East Europe were part of Eurasia now, while the South Eastern part was politically joined with the Middle East and Africa. Some of the landmasses had changed and he had read, with horror, how alien weapons had done this, torn chunks of land and drowned it in the sea - and in other cases caused earthquakes that had done even more damage.

He thought about how the world had changed far more than he'd initially thought. Maybe Xavier had been right in not just dumping all of this information in his lap on the first day. How horrible the war with the Kree must have been, the aftereffects on the environment and on the planet as a whole. Erik shook his head and stood to rummage through the closet.

Erik found a pair of dark trousers and a fitting dark, long sleeved shirt in the closet, dropping the casual wear he'd been wearing on the bed. The night would be interesting enough. He hadn't asked Xavier how he intended to explain who Erik was, but at least Rhaven and McCoy already knew.

Xavier had told him that the other were friends of Rhaven and himself, close enough that he'd assured Erik that they could be trusted not to gawk at him too much. No matter who they were, Erik doubted he had anything to fear from them. Or rather, he hoped. He didn't want to have to face Xavier with more of his trust issues, even on top of the display with the agents that afternoon.

Of course there was still what Xavier had referred to as a the pap-cam - but Erik had been watching and reading news in between his history texts, and there had been no mentions of his name anywhere so far, nor Xavier's. And, thankfully, no pictures had surfaced either.

It was possible that no one had recognized him. Erik had, through his curiosity coupled with what Xavier had said about there being few pictures of him, searched the history books and found very little in the way of photos of himself. Well, there were plenty, but none of him without his helmet. He'd found two that could have been him, but they were both far too blurry to make out anything specific.

He still wasn't sure if it would be a good or bad thing if they did find out about him, if they would follow him around until they tired of it. According to Xavier, it might take a lot longer than Erik thought.

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

Erik sat back in his seat, as the car sped through the city. Xavier was quiet, in a way that told Erik he was deep in thought rather than because there was anything wrong. He was a little surprised to find that he was already reading the other man as well as he was, and he could admit to himself that it wasn't because he was like Charles in many ways, because he wasn't. If he ignored the way Xavier looked, Erik could see that many of the character traits that had both drawn him to Charles and annoyed him were absent.

Where Charles had been direct and tended to make decisions without consulting Erik, Xavier here seemed to actually care to know how he felt, what he wanted to do. Of course, Charles had been a telepath and through this had access to Erik's mind, but Erik would be lying if he claimed to prefer it that way.

One might even think that Xavier lacked backbone and conviction, but Erik had witnessed the scene with the SHIELD agents and he was not going to write Xavier off as some harmless young man.

Erik allowed himself a small smile, because quite frankly, the display of command and self-assuredness had been magnificent and he was beginning to see his own attraction being to Xavier more than the physical likeness he bore to Charles.

'You'd have been proud of him, Charles,' Erik thought to himself, enjoying the hum of the electromagnetic Grid. 'Would you oppose my interest in him as you did not return mine during our time together? He's nowhere as powerful as you were, but what I've learned of him so far, I have to admit I like, find attractive. I know what you would say, old friend, you'd ask me if I were sure, if he is merely my only anchor in this time where I most definitely do not belong... yet, anyway. I don't know the answer to this, but you referred to me once as being prickly and reluctant to form friendships, and you were right - to a certain point. It just takes an extraordinary personality to get through to me, and for once it does seem to run in the family.'

"What are you thinking?" Xavier asked quietly.

Erik turned his head, losing the thread of his thoughts. "I seem to have adopted Charles' habit of conversing with me - I was thinking about what he might think of the world as it is now, what he might think of you... and me."

Xavier turned his head forward, not meeting his eyes.

Erik grinned, he could sense the tension coming off him. Reaching out, he put his hand on Xavier's knee and squeezed. On a whim, he left his hand there, feeling the tension seeping from Xavier's body, ever so slowly.

Xavier huffed and put his own hand on top of Erik's, leaving it there for the rest of the drive, until he lifted it to take control of the car as it came off the Grid and they entered the underground parking area of XavGen.

The move made Erik warmer than he'd expected. He had to wonder if Xavier had reservations about a - Erik paused for a moment - a relationship. He grinned widely, not even trying to stop himself. He was sure any psychologist would have a field day with his history and then his attraction to the great-great-great grandson of the one man he'd have given up his life to have when they had both been alive.

"That's a hell of a scary grin," Xavier said, casting him an amused look. He reached down to squeeze Erik's hand to let him know it was time to get out of the car.

"I was just wondering how other people would view a relationship between the two of us," Erik admitted, reluctantly letting go and getting out of the car. "Considering the history I have - with Charles."

Xavier raised an eyebrow. "And your reaction was to smile like that?"

"If you've read half as much into the journals of your ancestor as he put in there," Erik told him, falling into a comfortable walk next to him, "you'll know that I don't much care what other people think." And he really didn't. Not to mention, if he'd learned a lesson from being frozen it was to grab what life offered when it was offered.

Xavier looked up at him, his gaze softening and a slight smile lifting the corners of his mouth and Erik wanted so much to reach out and ruffle his hair, but he had a fairly good feeling that it would not be appreciated. Of course, he might still do so, later, when they were done with the people they were meeting and Erik might be allowed to hold his head still and steal a kiss.

They entered the elevator and Xavier shook his head as the door whooshed shut. "Do I want to know what _that_ smile hides?"

The question only made Erik grin wider. He turned a little and leaned in, looming over Xavier, who didn't seem to be intimidated one bit. Reaching out, Erik held Xavier's chin and stole a quick, dry-lipped and closemouthed kiss.

"Oh..." Xavier said, coloring magnificently, the tip of his tongue slipping out to lick at his lips as the elevator drew to a halt.

Erik could almost feel the heat before he stood back, straightening his already straight jacket. He rolled his shoulders and gestured for Xavier to precede him out of the elevator.

Xavier shot him a dirty look before exiting. "Don't think this 'conversation' is over for tonight," he warned in a low voice.

Erik merely grinned and followed him out, finding Rhaven waiting for them, her alien-looking black hair set off beautifully by a white dress with a thick, black hemming.

"I did not need to know that," she said with a theatrical sigh.

"Bat ears," Xavier retorted, but with as little heat as her initial comment had held.

"We were beginning to wonder what was keeping you," she threw back, a gleam in her eyes that made Erik feel more than a little wary of her.

"I had a phone conference that delayed me," Charles said with a shrug. "Work-related, so let's leave that till Monday morning, alright?"

She shrugged and gestured for them to follow her. "We set up the dinner in the conference room next to the old library," she told Xavier as they walked.

Having seen the room she was referring to as the library, Erik could see why. The rest of the place had a bit of a sterile feel to it, but the conference room with the attached library, reminded him of the one he and Charles had spent ages in, playing chess, at the mansion. Right down to the dark panelled walls.

"As always, a good choice," Xavier said, catching her hand and mock-kissing it before sidestepping to avoid the swipe she aimed at him.

"I always had better taste than you," she said with a very unladylike snort.

"So true," Xavier said theatrically, catching Erik's eye and winking - before flushing again.

"Oh dear," Rhaven said, her voice posher than Erik had heard her so far, "You're going to be acting like the love-sick fool the whole night, aren't you?"

Her question was left unanswered as they entered the library to find people waiting for them.

Erik found it mildly calming that McCoy was there, meaning he knew three people in the group. The rest were introduced to him and at least they did not gawk at him.

A young, wispy girl almost curtseyed to him, much to Erik's amusement.

"Amber Stark," she introduced herself. "I'm Rhaven's cousin and, somewhere very far out, related to Charles."

"Amber is also our newest intern," Xavier added, giving the girl a wide smile. "And between her and Rhaven, you can get the down and dirty on the family line rift as well."

Erik recalled having heard something about a falling out but...

"My granddad married a _human_ ," Rhaven said, winking conspiratorially. "Had it been during your time, Erik, he'd have gotten in trouble for it being another _guy_ , so thank the stars for small mercies."

Amber nodded. "It's only in the recent years that our family lines have even spoken to one another again."

"I, for one, am glad we are," Xavier said quietly, indicating for Erik to follow him to the next guest while Rhaven and Amber were giggling between themselves.

"Rachel Hudson," the next girl introduced herself. Her handshake was firm enough for Erik to raise an eyebrow, but she seemed perfectly at ease and she let go of his hand to accept a quick hug from Xavier. "Sorry about Akio," she said with a soft sigh, "but the clan was gearing up for another clash of the titans and he had to stay at home to calm the waters."

Xavier gave her an understanding nod and squeezed her hand. "Don't worry - I know your family's internal rivalries are leaps and bounds worse than ours have ever been."

"Nevertheless," Rachel told him, turning her attention back to Erik. "I would like to pass my husband's regrets on to you, for not being here to greet you himself."

Erik shot her a look. He'd never met quite such a formal and serious girl and if she was married, she was probably a little older than he'd first guessed her to be. "Thank you," Erik replied, not quite knowing what else to say.

Xavier guided him on, a hand on the small of his back, and Erik found himself leaning into it.

"Rachel has married into the Yoshida clan," Xavier explained. "If you ever want a headache, read up on their history as well as their internal wars - if nothing else, it's a lesson in political warfare."

"Please tell me some people live ordinary, quiet lives?" Erik said, only partly joking.

"Oh, absolutely," Xavier said with a laugh, "and here's one already," he continued, allowing himself to be engulfed in an exuberant hug. "Erik, this is Joshua Monroe."

Erik shoved down his annoyance at seeing someone else touching Xavier so possessively. He wondered if he'd have been as bad with Charles if Charles had ever returned his feelings. Just the fact that he knew he could have Xavier, that it was a possibility, seemed to bring out the worst in him - he'd never been good at sharing.

The look Xavier shot him told Erik had hadn't managed to hide his feelings entirely.

"And you've brought Thomas!" Xavier exclaimed, reaching out to take the hand of a quiet young man who had been hanging back behind Munroe. Where Munroe was tall, with dark brown skin and very welcoming and open, Thomas was, although just as tall, slighter and pale with blonde hair. And the look in his eyes when he found Erik looking at him was almost comical.

"How could we say no to an invitation like this?" Joshua said with a laugh. He turned to Erik and gave him his hand. "It's an honor, Mr. Lehnsherr."

Erik decided to at least try to like the man, although he remind him of an overeager puppy.

"Thomas Ramsey," the other man told him when Erik shook his hand. "It's..." he cleared his throat, "it's an honor, sir."

Erik turned his head to find Xavier and Joshua Monroe with identical looks of adoration on their faces.

Xavier shook his head, grinning widely. "Go sit down, guys, we'll be eating in a moment or two."

Erik let himself be guided towards Serena, who was standing by the window, enjoying a glass of wine.

"Joshua and I grew up together," Xavier explained. "Our families used to spend the summers together. And Thomas, I went to college with - I made the right call in introducing them and they've been a couple ever since."

Erik snorted. "Matchmaker?" Now, this he could buy into.

"Not at all!" Xavier exclaimed, though Erik could tell it was more show than anything else. Shrugging, Xavier amended. "Although Joshua was a bit of a wild child and _maybe_ I had hoped a friendship with Thomas would calm him down."

"Hasn't helped much, has it?" Erik asked before he could stop himself.

Xavier laughed out loud and shook his head. "My friend, more than you can imagine. Joshua was always a competitive bastard and it got us into the worst trouble, constantly."

"As if you needed the help," Serena said with a smirk.

"Come now, don't all gang up on me," Xavier said, touching his heart theatrically.

"It's not ganging up until we're all doing it," she replied with a wink. Turning her attention to Erik she gave him a scrutinizing look. "How are you feeling?"

"Physically, a lot better," Erik replied. "Still a lot confused though."

She huffed softly. "That is understandable," she said. "I doubt you'll feel up to speed any time soon, so don't break yourself trying."

Erik smiled, "I'll try not to," he replied.

"Wouldn't do to undo all my good work," she said gruffly. She raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn't comment on the fact that Xavier had his hand on the small of Erik's back.

Which only made Xavier smile wider. "Let's go sit, eat," he told them, gesturing to the table in the middle, set with warm food under covers, and bottles of wine.

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

"No one said this was going to end up with my life being the night's entertainment!" Xavier exclaimed, a look of horror on his face.

Everyone around the table was laughing loudly and Erik felt more at ease than he had since he'd woken up. At least, as much as he had in the company of others. Being with Xavier had acclimated him some, but these people, all of whom had known Xavier for years, were warm and openly affectionate with each other - like a family.

It was, if he was honest, what the Brotherhood could have been if he had allowed it, if he'd gone down the same path as Charles. Charles had preached unity through caring and love, where Erik had seen only the goal. The one important goal that, as he looked around the table, had obviously been reached. While some of the guests looked human enough, there were tell-tale signs as the evening progressed that at least some of them weren't.

Thomas' skin seemed to shimmer sometimes, as if there was a light under the surface. Joshua had startling blue eyes that were all the more obvious set against his dark skin and Erik realized at one point that his ears were jagged instead of rounded. Rhaven, he knew, was part-alien which made her exotic looks no less interesting. Rachel's eyes were the color of gold. Amber was, as Xavier had told him quietly, human, but as the evening progressed, Erik had not trouble sensing that she was more than a little envious of the genetics of her friends and family. However, he was amazed at the speed she had gone at, keeping up with Xavier in their earlier discussion on genetic research in zero-g conditions.

They were talking so fast that they were giving Erik a headache.

"Oh, Charles! Please," Rhaven cut in, her voice bringing Erik's attention back. "You wrote a history paper on the great Magneto in the fifth grade."

"Rhaven, dear," Xavier shot back, his cheeks coloring with more than the wine he was drinking. "That was fifth grade."

"Oh yeah?" Rhaven laughed, pointing a finger at him. "I know for a fact what you hid in the 'fiction' folder on your computer."

"Rhaven..." Xavier said warningly.

"Your mothers would have been appalled with your choice of reading material," she told him.

"My mothers knew perfectly well," Xavier started, then stopped, closing his mouth and sinking into his chair, a look of embarrassment on his face.

"They knew about the romance novels, Charles," Rhaven carried on, "but they didn't know about the _other_ stuff, did they?"

Xavier looked caught between sliding under the table to hide or running away.

"Rhaven, stop torturing him," Erik said before even thinking about it. "Whatever he did in his younger years, it can't be that bad."

"Thank you, Erik," Xavier managed to get out, pulling himself back upright in his seat.

Erik shot him a quick grin. He had a fair idea of what kind of prose Xavier was being embarrassed about. He'd read excerpts himself, only to shut the files down very quickly once he'd realized that they were all horribly sweet romance or raunchy pornography. All stories with himself and, in some cases, Charles involved. But he could see a young Xavier reading those, and maybe he should look up some of it when they returned home. Just out of curiosity at what could make his young friend blush like that.

Dinner over, Rhaven gestured to the door that led into a smaller reading room with wall to floor windows facing out over the city. "I've made sure there are drinks in the next room. Go on, we'll make sure this gets cleared away."

Xavier shot her a dirty look, but led Erik off anyway.

"What was that all about?" Erik asked when they entered the room and walked over to the window. He stared out into the night, the city lit beautifully beneath them.

"I think she wanted to give us a moment without the full company. You asked me about matchmaking earlier?" Xavier said. "Apparently it runs in the family."

"So she's not aware of it not being necessary?" Erik asked evenly, letting the quiet of the room seep into his body and mind. It was nice enough being around people, but a moment alone was not a bad thing. The others would be joining them shortly anyway.

"She's not," Xavier admitted. "I've never really, well, dated," he continued, staring out the window. "Nothing more than once or twice with the same people."

Erik shrugged. "I can't say my track record is much better," he admitted, thinking about all the things he'd lost, the people. Magda, the children. "But you know that already."

Xavier rolled his eyes. "I know, though my problems are small compared to that, my friend. I just don't feel like I'm all that much of a catch."

Erik stared at him. He wanted to ask Xavier if he was joking, but realized he might not be and laughing out loud would probably not be the best reply. "Why on earth not?" he found himself asking anyway.

"I've told you that mutants are the norm these days," Xavier explained, staring out into the night. "I have not only the family line of the Professor's, I have his name as well - not to mention I look a lot like him."

Erik nodded encouragingly.

"I don't exactly live up to those names, you know," Xavier said with a small laugh. "Erik, the Charles you knew was the most powerful telepath of his time, my family line carries shape-shifters and teleporters, not to mention a wide variety of physical mutations to boot."

"And?" Erik asked, not quite seeing where Xavier was going.

"Growing up... wasn't all fun and games," Xavier said with a huff. "My empathy is mediocre and although theoretically I possess telekinesis as well, I've never been capable of much more than rolling a pen off a table."

"You have friends and family who adore you," Erik said, as it finally dawned on him what utter stupidities Xavier was spouting. "Any mutation is beautiful, your great-whatever grandfather told me that. Tried to make me see that, and while I may have been a stubborn man back then...."

Xavier shook his head and turned to him, though not really meeting his eyes. "Not exactly the kind of mutant you'd go looking for to recruit into your Brotherhood, am I?"

"I'm not building an army now, am I?" Erik asked softly, putting a finger under Xavier's chin and tilting his head up so he could look him in the eyes.

"No, you're not," Xavier admitted, barely audible.

"I like you how you are," Erik continued, not letting go. "Right down to the soft down in your hair - it always makes me want to ruffle it, see if it's as soft as it looks." For a moment, they stared at each other, Erik willing him to understand what he was getting at.

Apparently Xavier did, as he leaned in towards Erik. Who happily met him halfway, crushing their mouths together, hard enough to sting. Not that he cared about the pain, and for a moment Erik let himself go, forgot the world around them.

Which was a stupid thing to do. All day, he'd been keeping his powers spread out to keep a watch for pap-cams and the moment he wasn't looking, the bright flash of the thing went off right outside the window.

It took Erik a moment to realize just what had happened, and then the thing was dropping out of the sky like a stone, Erik tearing into whatever metal was in it.

"Erik!"

The warning came too late. The cam had all his attention as the bulk of _something_ hit the window, splintering it around them, hitting them hard enough to carry them both into the middle of the room.

The world splintered into pieces as glass rained around them. Erik's arm ached from the impact, and he was pretty sure he could feel blood running from various cuts as he tried to get off the floor.

A moment later he was picked up and held in a vice-like grip, coils of _something_ curling around him. None of it was metal though, nothing that he could grab onto and fight.

**_'Specimen 039 has been located. Specimen 039 will be subdued and neutralized.'_ **

Erik shook his head, trying to clear it. He couldn't move, couldn't even twitch. He searched for metal around him, finding the desk to be mostly so and grinned savagely as he wrapped his power around it, rocketing the furniture into his unknown assailant.

Fighting to see his foe, Erik tried to twist his body, but managed nothing.

**_'Specimen 039 will cease to struggle. Resistance is futile._ **

Erik cried out as whatever it as wrapped around him tightened. Xavier, where the hell was...

"What the hell?!"

Erik recognized the voice as Munroe's and flashes of heat struck near him. He managed to catch Thomas glowing like the heart of the sun for a moment, while more heat beat around them.

At least they weren't exactly lacking in power, this group of Xavier's.

A moment later, Erik could have wept in frustration. Something like a net flickered out from the foe he still couldn't see, catching both Munroe and Thomas, flashing with electricity as they both fell, unconscious, to the ground.

Something reddish blurred by, and Erik realized, as the same shape was thrown back through the room, that McCoy had attacked as well, and failed.

"Let go of him!" Rhaven was through the door, but she was hit with a blast of something just as fast, the concussive wave pushing her back out of the room.

It was the last Erik saw and heard for a moment as the coils around him tightened, making him see stars. The air smelt burned, and where was Xavier? Dead? Unconscious?

Focusing inward, Erik wondered if he'd been dragged into the future simply to be killed off? Whatever that _thing_ was, it kept referring to him as specimen 039, which was the same damned designation they had used for him at the facility.

Something brushed Erik's attention and it took him a moment to realize what it was, as he fought to drag in another breath. Something bright and powerful was near and...

The Grid.

The Grid that ran the whole city. The one that had sparked so brightly when he'd first noticed it.

But it was so hard to reach for. His oxygen-deprived mind tryied to focus on it, but it kept slipping through his fingers. Just a moment, it was all he needed. A moment of pure focus and he could get to it, grasp it.

"Let go of him!"

It took a moment for Erik to understand who he was hearing.

A second or two later, he was dropped rather unceremoniously on the floor, wheezing as he fought to draw in enough air to fill his aching lungs.

Coughing, he scrambled up, trying to catch his bearings, zeroing in on the most magnificent thing he'd ever seen.

Xavier was hovering a good few feet above the floor, eyes ablaze with the most terrifying light. The... thing that had attacked them, looked like something out of a science fiction movie. A gleaming surface that wasn't metal, coil-like tentacles attached to its body, although, as Erik watched, it curled the tentacles around itself until they almost blended with the surface. Another flash and a net similar to the first one was shot at Charles, hit something midway and just hung there - before being thrown back at the robot, sparks of electricity flying everywhere.

"Erik, please," Xavier gasped, the strain showing like spidery veins, a web of dark blue lines over every inch of his visible skin.

Erik realized that however magnificent and powerful Xavier was right at that moment, he wouldn't be able to hold it indefinitely. He'd lose if Erik didn't move fast.

Keeping his eyes on Xavier's, Erik reached out, finding the Grid easily. He allowed himself a few precious moments to feel it from the center to the edges, finding the source and digging mental fingers into it.

It was no less of a rush than it had been the first time he'd felt it - when he'd been unprepared for it. It was like an unending river of energy, lifting him up and filling his every sense with delight. Working to center it, Erik pushed the energy into a tightly packed focus.

And not a moment too soon. Something flashed from the robot and Erik watched in horror as it hit its mark.

"Charles!"

Erik's self-control wavered, his worry for Xavier demanding he to pay attention. Anger wove itself though his finely honed concentration and flared. Pulling at whatever metal he could find, he wove it all into thin threads, imbued with the raw power of the Grid. Braiding the threads for strength, Erik rose on shaking legs, voice raw as he addressed his enemy.

"Whatever you are, whatever they sent to you do, I can promise you one thing - you will not leave this battlefield in one piece."

**_'This sentinel unit was built to neutralize Specimen 039 in case of escape,'_** it told him. The flickering light from the broken, dangling ceiling lamp gleamed off its smooth, white surface. **_'Upon the escape of Specimen 039, this unit followed protocol and pursued.'_**

Erik took a deep, calming breath. This damned thing was there for him alone, then. Everything, every _one_ else was collateral damage. He shook his head, gritting his teeth. "You've chosen the wrong mutant to engage," he told it, trying to buy time while he pushed as much power through his weapon as he could.

**_'Specimen 039 falls under government ownership. Specimen 039 has been deemed obsolete for experimental purpose and has become a threat,'_** the robot said, lights flickering on its carapace as it turned to meet him face-on. **_'Specimen 039 will be destroyed.'_**

Erik felt the heat of anger burning in his chest. He was not owned by any government, least of all one that no longer existed.

**_'This sentinel unit was built for Specimen 039 alone, protocols written to suit the specimen's abilities. This unit's first protocol requires it to end the existence of Specimen 039 before progressing with the secondary protocol.'_ **

Erik took a deep breath. "What is your secondary protocol?" he asked, knowing very well that he wouldn't like the answer.

The robot hummed for a moment then answered: **_'This unit's secondary protocol is the preservation of mankind and the extinction of the mutant genetic disease.'_**

So, Erik realized in horror, it was going to attempt to kill most of the world's population, it's protocols having been written when the majority had obviously _been_ human.

**_'Specimen 039, you will -'_** the blasted thing began.

"No," Erik said, for the first time since the attack began feeling in control. His aches and cuts were barely tangible. His only concern was for Charles, who was lying lifeless on the floor, cast aside like a rag-doll against the wall.

"No, _you_ will cease to exist," Erik told it quietly.

The thing started emitting more light, obviously powering up again. For a moment, Erik wondered if he could focus the coils of metal and electromagnetism quickly enough...

And that was the moment when the robot froze where it was, an almost puzzled tilt to its head. **_'According to files, specimen known as Charles Francis Neramani-Xavier is not capable of holding this Sentinel.'_**

Erik's breath stuttered out as he realized that Charles was awake, sitting propped against the wall, blood running from cuts and bruises, from the corner of his mouth, from his eyes and ears. He held one hand outstretched and to Erik's surprise, he was clearly holding the robot in place.

"Erik..." Charles' voice was barely audible, but the pleading couldn't be missed. The last of his reserves, Erik could see, were being thrown into holding the thing still.

For a split second, Erik saw Schmidt's face superimposed over the android, an echo from the past, and Erik's control wavered. A moment's memory of what had happened on that beach afterwards...

"Erik, damn it, now's not the time to have second thoughts!"

Shaking himself, Erik submerged his will into the powerful coil of metal and electromagnetism he had pulled from the Grid. Throwing it forward, he let every tiny metal thread slither into crevices and weak points in the robot's armor. There weren't many, but all Erik needed was one or two and he found those, relentlessly weaving his deadly threads through circuit boards and wires, through glass and plastic, finding the core of the robot, the central unit which, after he breached its defenses, lit up like Las Vegas on a cloudless night.

Staring at the thing in front of him, Erik's fingers twitched. For a moment nothing happened, then hairline fractures appeared. Light shone from the interior as the cracks grew, like a spider web covering the robot's surface, sparks flying in every direction.

Realizing that it was about to blow, Erik stumbled to Charles' side, sank down and pulled the metal back out of the robot, forming it into a shield to cover them both. He wrapped his arms tight around Charles, who was unconscious again. Erik _hoped_ he was unconscious and not dead as he closed the metal around them in a cocoon, praying it would be enough...

Erik felt the heat of the explosion, felt the pressure of the concussive blast as it hit his shield. He curled himself around Charles, using his last drop of willpower to keep them safe for as long as he could.

The edges of his consciousness turned dark, the world falling away as he held the metal tightly around them, Charles' unconscious body warm against his.

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

Erik opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. He moaned - even blinking seemed to hurt. His body felt... strange. Like it was one huge bruise. A rustle to his right made him turn his head, wincing as he did so.

He found a bed next to his own, the sheets pulled up to reveal just the top of Charles' hair sticking up, as unruly as ever.

Erik pushed his covers off and fought to sit up. It took forever and when he was finally upright, legs dangling over the edge of the bed, he was sweating profusely.

The beds were spaced a few feet apart and Erik figured that he could get from one bed to the other without too much trouble. He needed to check on Charles...

"Charles?" he rasped out, surprised that his voice was a gravelly as it was. Clearing his throat he called again, without any reaction.

Deciding that he was damned well going to make sure that Charles was still breathing, he slid down from the bed, his knees buckling as he hit the floor and nearly leaving him sprawled there. Through sheer determination, he managed to catch himself on the edge of the bed. Gritting his teeth, he turned towards Charles' bed, leaning forward and moving his feet, letting gravity and momentum carry him close enough to grab for the bed.

His knees, however, still didn't want to work properly and he ended up on the floor, hands buried in Charles' sheet.

He breathed deeply, trying to convince his body that he really needed to stand.

"What on earth are you doing down there?" Charles asked, peering over the edge of the bed, an incredulous look on his face, his voice no less rough than Erik's had been.

"You weren't answering," Erik replied, "I had to see if you were..."

"Oh, Erik," Charles said with a small huff of a laugh, wincing - he was obviously in no better state than Erik. "Serena will have our hides, you know."

"Not yours," Erik muttered as he pulled himself up again, struggling to get up onto the mattress. "You're too cute, harmless - she'll blame me, which is okay."

Laughing helplessly, Charles tried to help him up, the both of them collapsing on the bed, Erik halfway on top of him, when it struck him that Charles might be hurt. He tried to pull back, but Charles had put his arms around him, keeping him in place.

"Stay, since you've made it all the way over here," he said quietly.

Erik managed to maneuver himself under Charles' covers, fitting himself perfectly against Charles' warm body with a sigh.

"What happened?" he asked when he'd finally got his breath back. He had a fairly good memory of the night before right up until the point where he'd tried to shield Charles and himself from harm.

"We won," Charles answered with a small smile. "You saved us all. You saved me, though they had to cut us out of the cocoon you'd created to keep us safe." He pressed a careful kiss to Erik's brow. "You, ah... did take down the whole Grid for most of the night."

"Sorry?" Erik said, letting out a huff of air, relieved as he laid his head on Charles' shoulder.

"You shouldn't be," Charles continued. "You saved the city, probably more than just the city."

"What do you mean?" Erik asked. His mind still felt like it was full of cotton and thinking was.. well, he'd much rather just lie there and rest.

"Do you remember those attacks that happened with a few days between?" Charles asked.

Erik nodded.

"SHIELD was right - the robot, this 'sentinel', did come from the same facility where we found you. They found three hidden levels under the ones we'd already found. Apparently the sentinel was activated when we removed the cryo-chambers."

"So, it's okay that I put the Grid out of order because it saved the day?" Erik asked with a snort. "All means to an end?"

"Nah, the politicians are still debating whether or not you're a loose cannon." Charles ran a hand through Erik's hair. "The general opinion of the people on the streets, however, is that you saved the day."

"I had help," Erik replied, tilting his head to nuzzle the warm skin of Charles' neck.

"And yes, the others are alright," Charles replied.

"I meant you," Erik said with a soft laugh. "Don't sell yourself short."

"Well... " Charles said with a sigh. "We'll see in a few weeks if my secondary mutation remains as strong or if it was a one-moment bang I had."

"Weeks?" Erik asked worried. He tried to lift his head.

Charles kept him still. "I just overdid it - I need time to rest before attempting anything that involves using my power."

"You were pretty impressive," Erik breathed out, lowering his head again. He could tell that his own power was on a low as well. Tapping into the Grid had felt fantastic, but his body was still only flesh and blood.

"You weren't too bad yourself," Charles retorted.

They lay quietly together for a few minutes.

"You called me Charles," Charles suddenly said, pulling Erik from the half-sleep he had fallen into.

"That's your name, isn't it?" Erik said, drifting back towards sleep. Getting from one bed to the other had taken its toll on him.

"Yeah," Charles agreed.

"You're leaking emotions all over the place," Erik said gruffly when he realized he could feel the joy coming off Charles in waves. "I thought you'd burned yourself out."

"Sorry," Charles replied, not sounding sorry at all. "It's more the telekinesis I shouldn't attempt to use - the empathy however, well, my shields are a bit shot at the moment."

"I guess I'll just have to get used to it, then?" Erik said, yawning.

"Yeah, guess so," Charles agreed sleepily. He touched his fingers to Erik's wrist, rubbing the thin skin.

Erik could tell what he was touching without looking. It might not be as old as the one from the camps, but he knew it well enough.

"You know, we could easily remove the tat, right? Both of them," Charles offered.

"No. They're part of my past, Charles, part of me." And he meant it. The original numbers had given him something to focus on in his hunt for Schmidt. The second one... was just another battle scar.

"I had a feeling that might be your answer, but I had to ask," Charles said, barely awake.

"Appreciated," Erik replied, drifting off again, and this time Charles didn't drag him back up. He was obviously more than half asleep himself if Erik were to judge from the soft, fluffy emotions he could feel drifting about.

\---♦♦♦---♦♦♦---

A week later, Erik sat down by the window in the library at the mansion. He had a flexie in his hand, a cup of coffee on the table next to him. He was in no hurry to read the entries that Charles had given him an hour earlier, after their breakfast. They were both still healing, but he could tell that McCoy had been right about the Omega gene. He had never before healed this fast. Even the cuts that should still be visible were quickly fading.

Even though Charles had been worried about Erik's reaction to these entries, Erik wasn't. They had been healing more than just visible wounds in the days since the sentinel had crashed their party. Erik didn't expect fairy tale love all the way, but he was beginning to see that he could carve a little niche for himself in this world. Well, for him and Charles, really, because he wasn't going to let go just like that. He had even warned Charles about that, which had only made the young man laugh, then flush to the roots of his ridiculously messy hair.

Of course the media were in a frenzy at Magneto's resurrection, and Erik was getting to the stage where he took the pap-cams as target practice - a way to keep his attention finely honed. On an average day, he took down around ten to fifteen of the flying menaces.

There was no doubt about the world having sat up and taken notice of his return but he could only make wild guesses at what might come of that. At least he wasn't alone. Charles' friends were hisnow as well, and he was growing more used to having them around as they constantly insisted on checking up on Charles and himself.

And he found that he didn't mind so terribly. The fact that he could feel Charles' oozing possessiveness had nothing to do with it. At all. Of course, they had learned within the first few days of them being on their feet again, to knock. He still found the memory of Rhaven walking into their (and that would _never_ get old, _their_ ) bedroom, not finding it necessary to knock first, hilarious. The look of horror on her face had been priceless.

Erik looked down at the flexie. He knew it held Charles' personal entries from the time they had found Erik up until now. He also knew that it wasn't important what was in it, what was important was that Charles trusted him with it.

Closing his eyes, Erik sat back in the chair, just enjoying, for a moment, the ability to breathe, to live.

The End


End file.
